


Nightingale

by iluvaqt



Series: DC & Marvel: Nightingale [14]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Smallville, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Love, PTSD, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5104814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iluvaqt/pseuds/iluvaqt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is who she is now. Her experience left its mark on her. Finding each other again, now the healing begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Like The First Time

The dining hall was full of quiet chatter and the clinking of metal dishes, Steve caught her eye on occasion, but they hadn't spoken much throughout the meal.

Thor approached her after the sweets were served and begged for a moment of her time.

She squeezed Steve's hand and then slid out of her seat on the long bench beside him. Chloe followed Thor a short distance away to a more secluded space between two pillars. They were still in the grand room but far enough from the other occupants that they wouldn't be overheard, she could feel both Steve and Bucky's watchful eyes on her. No doubt concerned for her safety even though she was in the company of someone Steve trusted.

"I must apologize for my neglect, Chloe. Had I not been so caught up in my own self importance in my past, I may have been able to prevent what happened to you at the hands of my brother and his wicked schemes."

Chloe shook her head and touched Thor's arm, wishing to appease the heavy guilt he bore. "The past is done. If we live with what if, we will forget to live today. You're a good man, Thor and you'll make a great king someday. Your time as a mortal taught you to appreciate life's frailty, and made you humble. These were lessons Loki never learned. He made his choices freely, don't carry the burden of his sins, they are not yours to bear."

"How long he must have had you as a friend and yet he never appreciated what he had."

Chloe regarded him thoughtfully. "Loki did care for me... I...you don’t have to lift a finger to hurt the ones you love. We often start out with the best intentions."

"Whatever his intentions, I doubt they were selfless."

"Perhaps no," Chloe said sadly, pained that even will all he had done, Loki wouldn't have the opportunity to redeem himself. Not that he hadn't been given ample opportunity after Odin had spared his life the second time he'd tried to destroy lives. As selfish, calculating and obsessive as he was, she sensed that he had been a very lonely person. And she was sure that he counted her as the only person he really trusted, which was an even more troubling and saddening thought.

"Thank you for asking your father to allow us to stay."

Thor bowed his head. "You have done incalculable good for our people and many others. Without our allies, your beloved and his team mates, I would not have succeeded in reclaiming control of Asgard. My father has agreed that you are welcome here, for as long as you wish to remain."

"I've been away so long, I'm not sure I would know where or how to go about returning to Earth. What I do remember is that we were on the brink of a civil war, and HYDRA tried to have Steve killed and nearly succeeded. I doubt anything will improve without some drastic changes occurring first. Considering the perils that plagued the realms in recent times, I'd much prefer to avoid any conflict, if possible."

Thor smiled. "Peaceful resolution was never a talent of mine. I was trained and forged through the fire and glory of battle and I could never turn from a fight."

Chloe snorted. "Setting broken bones, stitching wounds, preventing infections, nothing glorious about that. I'll bide you good evening, Thor. I haven't been alone with my husband for decades and I'm not getting any younger," she said with a wink.

Thor let out a rich belly laugh and watched her go. "Rest well, Chloe, our Nightingale."

She smiled coyly over her shoulder and then turned back to Steve sensing him watching their exchange, an expectant look in his eyes.

She took his hand and he quickly got up out of his seat and said goodnight to Bucky. The other man nodded in response absently, already engaged in something a beautiful Asgardian was telling him.

When Chloe closed the chamber door behind them, Steve swept her into his arms and kissed her hungrily.

Sitting beside him, soaking in his strong and reassuring presence she'd had found it hard to concentrate on anything much less reminding herself to put food in her mouth. Having his large hands on her hips drawing her close and his warm full lips on hers, the taste and feel of him on her tongue, she was completely lost. She had to remind him that her lung capacity wasn't as impressive as his by pulling away when she grew lightheaded. She pressed her face to his chest and rubbed her fingers over the nape of his neck. She felt the chain that held his military tags and followed the thin metal until she lifted the tags and his ring from under his tunic.

"Here, I got it," he said quickly reaching around and popping the link catch so he could remove his wedding band. He quickly slid it on his finger. "Never coming off," he said proudly, cupping her face to kiss her again.

She could feel the smile on his lips and the muscles in her chest tightened painfully. Her eyes filling with tears as she thought of the rings he'd given her, the ones she had traded away.

::: ::: ::: 

"Which front did she come from? Did she have any papers?" 

Sound came to her all of sudden. She couldn't open her eyes even though she wanted to and as she started to become more aware, she was able to listen and understand the buzzing that had been going on around her. The staff were speaking in hushed tones nearby. There wasn't any problem with her hearing or her French. Her body and her eyes weren't being cooperative however and she was stuck lying there in the darkness, listening to them debate over what to do with her.

"No one knows who brought her, Doctor. She arrived yesterday. Her wounds were dressed and healing well but she has yet to regain consciousness."

"She is well enough to move. We can't spare the beds but we also have no one to contact to collect her. She carried no papers on her person, but she did have a powerful weapon, American make, I think. Clever of her to wear her rings around her neck. Around these parts such fine craftsmanship, even just the metal will fetch a fair trade."

"Wait until she wakes," another other voice said. "More injured arrive every day. Unless they're bleeding or in need of regular antibiotics then we must move them on."

When the doctor and his assistants moved away, Chloe tried opening her eyes again. She was surprised it was dark. It hadn't just been because her eyes had been closed. It took her several tries to get her limbs to move but she started small by wriggling her toes first.

She as soon her arms responded to her up command, she fingered her chest. There was a tightness just below her sternum and over her stomach when she took a breath. Her fingers shook as she felt the long feathered scar. She should be dead, but somehow she had survived. Why was she in France of all places though? How had she traveled from a planet on the outer fringes of their galaxy and have no memory of it?

Her chart hung near the head of her bed, all the other patients around her were all in varying stages of unconsciousness, some drugged while others were clinging to life suffering from severe injury or infection.

One man reached for her arm after he noticed her sitting up on her bed.

"Water," he begged her in French. He was missing his left hand. And his right arm was in a cast all the way up to his shoulder. She wouldn't be surprised if he had been a victim of a mine or a grenade. She put her arm under his head and angled his head up while she touched the glass to his lips.

His eyes were almost swollen shut but she could see that they were a gray-blue between the narrowed slits. They reminded her of Steve's eyes and a sharp pang assaulted her chest as she worried over whether he'd survived the arena. If he'd even tried to after Thanos' brutal attack on her.

A newspaper by his bed caught her attention. The date made her spill a little of the water onto his hospital gown.

"Where am I?" she asked quickly in French.

"Perrache, Lyon," the man wheezed. 

Lyon, France - February 13th, 1945. Just one week before James fell from the HYDRA train travelling through the Alps to Geneva. Lyon was one of the largest stations on that same route. She had never been a person to believe in chance or coincidence. Everything happened for a reason. 

She had a the opportunity to ride that route early, get in position and save Bucky. Without help he would bleed to death in that crevasse. Without a shadow of a doubt, seeing the date and waking up here, she knew that she really had been the woman he'd met before. Not some distant relative or some doppelgänger. She had lived his past. 

Holding the injured man's shoulder long enough to channel peacefulness into his limbs, he quickly fell into a restful sleep. She then crept past the dozing nurse's office and pocketed a few vials of antibiotics, syringes, alcohol and bandages. She still had her acupuncture bracelet but she would need a lot more than ancient Chinese medicine to save Bucky's life.

With no money and only able to pocket regular essential items and food without notice, she was forced to trade her engagement ring to buy passage on the train. 

She reasoned that Steve would understand and possessions could be replaced, his best friend's life was priceless.

The trade had given her enough money to purchase a hunting knife, oats and dried meat, lighter fluid, a small metal cooking pot and her ticket. Outer winter clothing she'd stolen from a guard station while both sentries slept. The parachute she needed to make her BASE jump, she had lifted from a military supply van that was headed for a Allied Forces airfield from the local manufacturing plant.

Standing on the top of the moving train as it cut across the Alpine mountains, Chloe prayed she wasn't completely insane. She told herself that she would survive this because obviously James remembered her.

Steve had once described to her in detail, his experience watching Bucky fall. She estimated from a geographical map crossed referenced with this particular route the most probable location that she would find him.

It had taken her three days to gather the necessary supplies and it would be another two before the right train pulled into the station. HYDRA had their own train but this was a supply and travel route for many businesses and it had trains coming and going every few days.

The train needed to travel down the line for at least ten hours before she would be in a high enough position to navigate the canyon and follow the right river path.

The wind whipping her hair and tiny ice crystals biting her skin, when the train started the turn, she started running for last car.

When the final carriage took the bend, she jumped.

About 53 hours later, traversing over more than 28 miles of slippery ice and snow, she found him precariously close to slipping into the half frozen river, the frigid temperature the only thing keeping him from bleeding to death. His body temperature and heart rate so low, he was hypothermic and only barely alive.

Her teeth chattering and her hands almost stiff from the cold, she wrapped him in the parachute and put a little water in his mouth. He blinked up at her with bleary eyes.

She smiled at him, struggling to keep her own emotions in check let alone help him with his that wavered between hope and despair. She was never more relieved to see those clear blue eyes open.

"Don't give up. I'm here, James. You're going to be okay."

::: ::: :::

"I gave mine up a long time ago," she said quietly. "I'm sorry, Steve."

She felt his pulse quicken and felt the muscles in his arms bunch under her hands. She could feel his confusion and a trace of hurt and hurried to explain. She doubted it would erase the hurt but it would fix his confusion.

"I needed supplies when I was in France. I had a week to prepare to rescue Bucky and I had nothing but those clothes I had been wearing in the arena."

Steve crushed her close and kissed her hairline. "Your life, Bucky's, whatever you needed is more important than a bit of metal and stone. I'll get you another."

A sob escaped her before she could stop it. "You don't have to," she said brokenly.

Steve put a finger under her chin to lift her face to his. "I'm yours and you're mine. Is it okay that I want to show you off a little?"

Chloe smiled with glistening eyes and bit her lip. Steve dipped his head and used his thumb to swipe at her bottom lip.

"No none of that, that's my job." He kissed her and walked them back to the bed where he pulled her over his legs.

When he turned them while pressing kisses down the side of her face and down her, neck Chloe started to shake. She was extremely nervous and even though in her head she told herself that Steve had never been superficial she worried about how much she'd changed.

Steve felt her trembling and lifted his weight from her, resting on one arm beside her, while taking her hand in his and kissing her fingers. "I can just hold you tonight. We don't have to do anything you're not feeling up to."

Chloe stroked his face with her other hand. "I want to touch you. It's been so long, Steve. So long that I lived with dreams and I... I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and this will just be another one. Can I just, relearn you? Can I touch you?"

"My darling, have at it, anything you want."

Chloe eagerly sat up and when to work on his fastenings, she pulled off her tunic and his shirt and ran her fingers lightly over his chest. She pushed gently over his heart to urge him onto his back and pressed her lips against his twitching muscles. She smiled remembering that his chest muscles were especially sensitive and could develop an involuntary twitch at the oddest times. Like if someone made him laugh, or if she was kissing him. She smiled against the jerking muscle, he groaned and buried his fingers in her hair when she pressed her tongue against his nipple.

He lifted his hips in response to the sensation that had triggered a sharp throbbing in his groin. He pressed her hand there to show her just how much her presence and attention could affect him.

She grinned wider against his chest and made her way to his navel peppering his skin with kisses, she grabbed his belt and unthreaded it. He smelled and tasted better than her faded memories had told her and he was so much better than any dream. She felt painful longing threatening to bubble over but she pushed it aside, focusing on being in this moment with him. Replacing pain and loneliness with the reality of having him under her, solid, ready and waiting. She popped the buttons in the placket of his pants. He lifted his hips and she pulled his pants free. He lay there naked in the glow of the surrounding candle light, completely at ease with his nakedness and she felt like crying again. She wished she had his confidence. From early in their relationship his demonstrative affection had built her confidence in her desirability and his love. In his eyes, she could see his trust and his love for her. For him it must have felt like only yesterday they had made love desperately. But for her it had been more than 70 years. Forgetting the fact she had many new scars, she hadn't been sexually active since their last time together. 

The years she'd spent as a POW and then later as a captive of HYDRA, being sexualised was the last thing she wanted. Later knowing how Loki didn't understand or respect personal boundaries, made her very wary of indulging in fantasies. After a while the urge to feel just went away. It was easier to distract herself from her sense of hopelessness, her longing for him and her time, and with that everything else eventually the physical urge was forgotten too.

She had no idea if everything even worked properly anymore. She suspected that her irregular periods were probably more to do with her poor eating habits, she often got so caught up she forgot to eat and sometimes she was too tired and couldn't muster the effort to cook so an apple would do, but she did worry that maybe her age was showing. In the face of his obvious arousal, she worried that if her body was going through menopause that she might not be able to enjoy sex as she had before and there wasn't any corner shop she could run to, to ask for some hormone therapy. 

His expression and his eagerness was stirring things inside her though and her doubts aside, she didn't want to leave him for even a second. She decided to give him something else while she tried to figure out her dilemma.

Steve might not have her gift for emotional connection but he could sense her anxiety. He pulled her up to his chest before she could even bend to take him in her mouth when she had held him in her hands and all indications signalled to him that she was going to go down on him.

He shifted sideways and ran his hand along her leg and under her skirt. With his fingertips, he trailed along her hip and teased the edge of her undergarments. "If you're not comfortable, tell me," he said softly against her neck.

He knew exactly how firmly to touch and where. He knew how to awaken the fiery hunger inside her that she'd forgotten and as he stroked his fingers between her legs, rubbing her nether lips through the thin linen, she felt herself relaxing, her anxieties melting away as she pressed herself against his body and let her head fall back against the pillows.

Steve slipped his hand into her underwear and spread her lips. Chloe lifted her leg and put her knee over his hip to give him better access. He circled her wetness and coated his fingers, and kissed her, invading her mouth pushing his tongue against hers as he speared her with his fingers

She gasped at the intrusion of his thick strong fingers and clutched at his arms, her nails digging as the sting and sudden stretching stole her breath away.

Steve stopped at her sharp breath and pained expression. He was about to withdraw but she gripped his shoulder tighter.

"Don't move. Just give me a second." She opened her eyes to meet his, pressing her forehead to his chin when she saw his concern and silent apology. She chuckled softly. "I'm okay. You didn't do anything wrong, it's just, like I said. Long time."

Steve struggled against the bubbling undecipherable feeling in his chest. "Loki never..."

Chloe jerked her head back to look at him. "Never! Oh Steve," she said touching his cheek and playing with his hair. "There's never been anyone else." And she praised God that she'd been spared that. She refused to ruin this moment and reflect on how close that almost hadn't been the case, and let out a shaky breath looking at his handsome face to banish the torment of the past.

He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, she could honestly say they were a darker stormy blue and focused she'd ever seen them. He kissed her like he need air from her lungs.

He started slowly with his finger thrusts, but upped his pace as he listened to her breathing and the sounds she had no hope of controlling. When her sighs and moans became sharper and more frequent he pushed her undergarments down her legs and she helped kick them off. Bringing their bodies closer in alignment, she reached for him and he withdrew his fingers.

"Darling?" he asked, the quiet concern back in his eyes.

Chloe nodded and tilted her hips so that he could push in slowly. The meeting of their flesh, his broad head pushing into her tight heat made her eyes drift shut involuntarily. He was a lot thicker than his two fingers but he'd aroused her so much that her muscles made no protest stretching around him.

The last inch he pushed home quickly with his hands on her bottom. The groan of mutual bliss they simultaneously released in the act of their deep connection had Chloe smirking and Steve's gave sexy smile made her heart skip a beat. He peppered kisses over her eyes and fused their lips together as he started to thrust in slowly. 

She closed her eyes and gave herself over to sensation, daring just a little to open up and let him feel what she felt, the fullness, the completion, the wetness and growing hunger. He fed her back and as he felt both hers and his need, his control broke. He drove in harder, his palm tightening on her bottom cheek and his other on her hip as he surged into her. His pace quickened and he hit deeper, his thrusts brushing a spot inside her that made her feel both pleasure and ache at the same time. She let him feel that too and he cried out.

Steve rolled her to her back and planted one hand on the mattress, the other stayed under her hips, angling her up as he continued to bury his slick length within her gloriously tight heat. She spasmed around him, the quick climax making her pant harder and he clamped his eyes shut to pushed past the exquisite pleasure pain of her convulsing walls by keeping his breathing deep and even. He kept up his steady rocking, bumping her bundle of nerves on every stroke. She arched her head back as a second wave washed over her senses. He felt another gush of wetness and he felt a little smug that he could keep going even as her contracting, quaking muscles gripped him. He kissed her again and then buried his nose in the damp hair at her throat.

Chloe clung to his shoulder, her body tingling from head to toe. Her nerves were crying at her, her pelvic muscles twitching uncontrollably. She could hardly stand the riotous assault on her nerve endings anymore, she let him have it all. Forget the small opening she had made, she let the wall collapse.

In the wake of her feelings crashing over him, Steve said a string of curse words and his control shattered, he barely had the presence of mind to put his fingers on her nub to set her off one last time while he surged his release deep inside her. He groaned in satisfied bliss when he felt her clamp around him almost brutally tight and milk him with her convulsing muscles.

He rested on her for a second before he held her hip and rolled them to one side, so he wouldn't squish her with his bulk.

"If that's out of practice, Angel, you just might kill me when you turn on the wildcat."

She snuggled against his chest and smiled against his neck, where his pulse drummed hard from his exertions. "What can I say, we make magic together."

Steve grinned and hugged her tightly. "We sure do."


	2. Light of Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to hide anything when illuminated by the sun. They promised to share everything, so she's trusting him with her past, scars and all.
> 
> Warning: Angst and lemons

For the first time in a long time, she slept. Truly slept. Not the suspended animation she’d been forced into with no real concept of time or space. Even on the edge of wakefulness, the sounds in the room telling her someone else was close by, she wasn’t afraid. Neither did she feel any sense of urgency to move or join the waking world. She felt the mattress beneath her shift slightly, a redistribution of weight and an interesting sensation prickled her consciousness further. She hadn’t realized how far the sheet had fallen and that her skin was cold until warmth drifted over her followed by soft pressure that touched the dip between her shoulder blades. Still in a drowsy state, she sleepily stretched, feeling the sheet beneath her rub against her sensitive breasts. A shiver of delight passed through her body as the coarseness of the fabric danced over her nerve endings. She felt his lips touch her back again, right over the worst of her scars on that side of her body and she bit her lip to keep a gasp from escaping, now fully awake.

Steve felt her muscles stiffen and even though she had tried not to make a sound, her breathing had changed too sharply for him not to notice.

"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly, his voice tight with empathy.

Chloe shook her head. "Sometimes if it's too cold, but the skin doesn't hurt. It's the muscles underneath," she answered him softly.

"Deep tissue," he said, musing to himself. "Who did this to you?"

Chloe could hear and feel how much he was struggling and turned into her back, first to hide the scars and second so she could pull him down into her arms. During the night, she'd wrestled out of her gown, their combined body heat and the extra layers making her feel restricted and smothered. Comfort won over any lingering doubts she had over baring herself to him. And she realized that she'd rather face the music and let him see it all sooner rather than later. Being in his arms, having his touch and skin on skin was a gift that she had no desire to let go of anytime soon. In the light of day there was no hiding anything and there was no love without trust. And she trusted him with her heart and her body, he wouldn't fail her.

Steve was grinding his teeth, a sure sign he was stressed and he had a deep furrow between his brows. She pressed her fingertips against the trench until the tension ebbed and his eyes grew less dark and stormy but no less pained. "Why didn't you come find me? We could have saved you both."

Chloe felt her throat close over. "Even if somehow you would have believed me, and we managed not to completely screw up the past and the future, by the time I got Bucky out of the Soviet camp, you were already in the ice. We might have made it to the Allied troops in Eastern Italy had our transport not hit a landmine. I spent about 18 months in a HYDRA compound near Stalingrad. Bucky had lost his memory from his head injury in the fall. Because we were found together and they wanted information, they used me."

Steve searched her face possibly looking for any trace that she was still pained or haunted by her experience, she smiled weakly and braced his head with her hands. "The past is done. What happened, brought us to this exact point. To wish to change anything would risk the present we have. Steve, I love you and our life that we’ve shared up until now. The future is what we make it. Today is our gift. I cherish every second, every moment I'm with you because there are no guarantees. Can you accept the things we can't change and be with me as I am?"

She felt him tremble bodily as he warred with his emotions. She felt his pain and frustration as his eyes drifted over every scar and mark on her skin. He then buried his face in her neck and held her tightly, and she felt hot tears slipping into her hair and knew he wasn't the only one contributing to the collection of moisture there.

Chloe carded her fingers through his satiny soft strands of blond hair and kissed the part of his forehead she could reach. He clutched at her tighter and she smiled widely. "Any tighter and you'll crush my ribs, Mr. Muscles."

That got him to ease up, he lifted himself onto his elbows and gave her a watery smile. Steve leaned down and kissed her. He brushed his lips over hers tenderly at first, just a simple contact, but it quickly turned more exploratory, insistent and purposeful. He edged in closer and let their mouths meet fully. He pressed his tongue against the seam of her lips and she opened for him. His tongue touched hers and the second she tasted him, she sucked him in deeper, curling her tongue around his, keeping their lips fused as she angled her head and lifted her hands to hold the sides of his face and trap him more securely. 

He ran his hands down her sides, feeling all her dips and curves. The bright morning light bathed her skin giving it a healthy golden glow. She was thinner than he remembered, he made a mental note to make sure she had all her meals. He knew from experience how involved and distracted she could get in her work that she forgot to eat. He wanted to take care of her. For the rest of his life, that's all he really wanted to do. Having her in his arms again, nothing else seemed important anymore. He'd thought he'd lost her. The gift of finding her alive, all he wanted was to be connected to her in the most basic way. To experience her warmth, the strong steady thump of her heart against his chest when he held her against him and to feel her love. 

It was a little terrifying how badly he needed her. When she'd disappeared from the arena after Thanos had so brutally attacked her, he felt his heart stop for a split second. The world got fuzzy around the edges and all he saw was a sea of gray, he couldn't feel or hear anything but a high pitched whine, similar to noise following a close range explosion, signalling damage to your hearing. For a moment, he really didn't care to defend himself. It was too early to process properly but he knew if he had to go on without her, the pain would slowly eat him alive. He didn't want to comprehend life without her. A part of him welcomed the peace that death would bring. But something else caught his eye. It was Bucky. He looked lost, confused and thoroughly shaken, he was staring at the bloody spot Chloe had been and his arms and hands hung slack at his sides. His posture was one of defeat. Their eyes met, and Steve realized that he wasn't alone in his loss. Chloe was loved by a lot of people. She would want him to fight for them. To protect them because she couldn't any longer. Giving up now would be selfish. And she was the least selfish person he knew. He would honor her by not giving up. The pain hit him then and his whole body shook with it. A sound he didn't know he was capable of making left his throat and he felt a strong arms bracket him.

Steve wasn't ashamed to take comfort his embrace. There was a time in his life where he'd shrugged off Bucky's concern and offer of support. He was wiser now. Seeking help wasn't weakness, admitting when you were drowning and grabbing an offered hand was an expression of strength. It showed your desire to fight on, survive. One act, one step at a time, he'd find a way to keep fighting. And he knew he wasn't alone.

Breaking away from her mouth, he trailed kisses down her body. He felt her shiver when he drew closer to thick scar that ran almost the length of her abdomen. It was faded, almost silvery now. He hadn't seen it properly in the arena but he remembered desperately trying to staunch the flow from the gushing wound and hold her together.

Feeling his anguish at seeing that scar, no doubt reliving the memory, Chloe captured his questing fingers and kissed them. She then rolled back onto her stomach, trapping his hand and part of his arm beneath her. He splayed his hand against her skin and let his warmth spread over her much cooler skin.

"I love you," he said, his voice choked and unsteady.

""Love you too, Steve, and I always will,” she said glancing back at him over her shoulder.

His lips were trembling when he pressed a kiss to her shoulder and then to the middle of her back. She felt a drop of moisture touch her skin and tickle her, slowly trailing down the valley made by the curve of her spine to the small of her back.

She stretched out properly and the side of her knee brushed up against his arousal. Chloe closed her eyes tight and bit down on her bottom lip, smirking to herself as she reached to close her hand as much of his girth as she could, stroking his throbbing flesh.

Steve pumped his hips forward, unashamedly groaning as the friction of her grip stimulated his swollen length.

He put his hand over hers to slow down her movements as she picked up her pace and put his other hand between her legs to gauge her readiness. 

She was still slick from their lovemaking but he gently teased her till he could ease one finger inside her tight channel.

Chloe reflexively clamped her thighs around his wrist when he started pushing inside and moaned in need.

Steve shifted so he could settle over her and used the arm she'd trapped to lift her hips. He replaced his fingers with the head of his thick, steely dick and pushed in smoothly, closing his eyes as she stretched around him, engulfing his length like a snug glove. Only gloves didn't twitch and rhythmically ripple around your fingers. He struggled to maintain control and breathe through the urge to let go immediately.

Being inside her was a feeling he couldn't adequately put into words. There was pleasure beyond anything he could ever capture through other means. There was warmth and belonging. A sense of unity and completion. It was bliss and pain blended together. Never enough but at the same time too much to bask in forever because of the sensory overload. When he felt confident he wasn't in danger of a premature finish, he started moving.

Chloe felt the initial burn. Her body was still adjusting to his intrusion. He had shaped her perfectly throughout their marriage. They made love often and in a seemingly never ending variety of positions and angles. Steve's sense of adventure and quest for learning didn't just extended to pushing his own physical limits but hers too. He certainly put all those years she'd kept up the Pilates and yoga training to good use. 

Steve wasn't built small. He was the peak of physical and mental ability a man could be. And that covered every facet of his body. He had to go slow at first, giving her time to loosen and accommodate him. He was a patient, attentive but almost insatiable lover. He pushed her to her limits, but he was sensitive to her cues and always pulled back if it seemed like she was at the end of her energy levels and physical capacity to take anymore. He was infused with an impressive recovery rate whereas she wasn't. Two black out orgasms in one night was her limit. 

Knowing that, he liked to take his time. Tease her with an excruciating and torturous pace till she was writhing, begging and slick with sweat, her breathing ragged, perilously close to orgasm several times before he'd pull away and stop everything for a second effectively killing it before it had a chance to wash over her. She let him feel a little of her restlessness and need, pushing her emotions his way.

Thankfully he got her message loud and clear that this morning she wanted it hard and fast. If he made her wait for it right now she just might turn around and strangle him. 

Steve felt how ready she was. She'd been half way to orgasm when he first entered her. Whenever she was this receptive and sensitive, it made everything more heightened. Her scent was stronger, and made him even more hot for her than normal. Her nipples were a darker shade of rose and she was wetter. He focused on the sounds she was making and felt his length grow even thicker, harder with more blood.

He hissed and breathed through the threat of release again. He picked up his pace and reached up with his fingers using the hand supporting her.

Chloe choked and cried out as her orgasm pulsed through her body. Everything tightened and her nerve endings exploded in little fireworks under her skin. She buried her face in the pillow to smother her whimpers and moans as she fluttered and clenched around his thrusting length.

He dared to keep going, pushing through her fisting muscles and the second orgasm he wrung from her sent her limp. Steve felt her whole body spasm before she slumped in his arms.

A smug smile on his lips, he pushed deeply and let go. The release he'd been holding back unleashed its own punishment as it burst out of him. Pleasure pain rocked through his groin to his lower back and he only just kept himself from collapsing over her. 

Reluctantly he broke their connection and stretched out beside her, pulling her to spoon against his chest. She rested against him bonelessly, weakly threading their fingers together against the spot low on her abdomen where he could just feel her womb still pulsing, drawing his release deeper within her body.

He folded her in close and pressed his lips to her hair, breathing her in. He could feel the thundering of her heart and the deep long exhale as she tried to get her pulse back to normal. If he had his way, they'd never leave this bed, but that was a fantasy.

The day was calling. And even if he could assume they wouldn't be missed, they had plans to make. He wanted to know what she'd been through, the experiences that she had, the ones she was willing to share. He knew there would possibly be a lot she might never be ready to tell him, but he needed her to know that he wanted to support her through it all.


	3. Awakened Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't out run or escape the past. The longer he's been awake and free from HYDRA, the more he remembers and those memories torment him. But he's not alone.

They had run until he couldn’t run anymore. Rough, slippery terrain through dense scrub and over fallen trees and moss covered rocks. He didn’t know where she found the stamina. She was more than a head shorter than him, her legs probably only managed half his stride yet she was the one leading and carrying everything. Including him at times. At least his ego hadn’t taken a fatal hit in that he had managed to keep himself upright for the most part, and he only needed to put his good arm across her small shoulders when he started to feel dizzy. Which was currently attacking his equilibrium with a vengeance.

“Just a little longer. I think we lost the dogs. The ice and the wind behind us is helping cover our scent.”

He pressed his face into the bark of the tree they’d stopped to rest up against. “I can’t keep going. I’m sorry. Just go. Leave me here. Go for help.”

She gave him a look that he knew without asking was an, ‘Are you crazy, no way in hell’ expression. By George, did she have a fierce, incredulous glare on her.

He had asked her for her name, but she said it was better if he didn’t know. Just as a cautionary measure, in the event they were captured, the less they knew about each other the better. He couldn’t argue her logic but he felt she had an unfair advantage already, since she seemed to know him. He was as good as a blank slate. He didn’t even remember his own name but somehow, when she’d called him James, it just felt right. Before she proved she knew him by showing him the ID tags he had on under his jacket. There was this strong impression he got from her. She inspired trust, even though he knew nothing about her. In his head, he called her Angel. Her golden hair was as good as a halo and she brought this calm, comforting presence. They were running from tracker dogs and their handlers, through what she’d told him an area very close to war-torn territory and he didn’t feel panicked or afraid. He felt safe with her.

“Stay here for a bit. I’ll see how far we are from the nearest road.”

James stayed standing, and circled the tree slowly. He knew instinctively that if he sat down, his muscles would seize up and she was a determined little thing, but she could barely budge him if he didn’t help. He was too heavy. How she’d gotten him to that fishing shack was a blur. All he vaguely remembered was it had something to do with a stretcher she’d made out of thin logs and the parachute she’d used as a sling between. Her accent was American, he was American. Maybe they served together. But as far as his impressions went, he didn’t know of any female combatants. Then again it was wonder he even knew what the American accent sounded like, he didn’t know his date of birth, where in America he was from or even his favorite food. And yet it was odd the sorts of things he did remember. Like fact that he was ambidextrous and that he could whistle really well, imitate bird calls good. He had military tags around his neck that had his name, James B. Barnes and his serial number. He knew he hated the sound of the wind, but he wondered if that was always the case or due to the fact that it meant cold was looming.

He wracked his brain trying to think of things like places he might have been. Favorite past times, anything that might jog a memory. Food. It should be an easy one, you had taste memory right? But he got nothing. He was getting pretty sick of oatmeal and dried salted meat. Not that he’d tell her that. There was a really bitter tea she got him to drink every day. He knew that was another thing he could not have been a fan of - ever. If he was to ever stomach tea by choice, it would be loaded up with sugar. But no such luck when you were stuck in the middle of nowhere. She was taking care of him, and he didn’t want to seem ungrateful. She was the only friend he had, and limited food choices aside, he valued her company and her care.

He took a sip from the water canteen she’d slung over his neck and absently scratched at the bandage around his head, before he dropped his hand away quickly. Angel would smack him, if she caught him scratching. She told him repeatedly not only would he risk opening his wounds but he was introducing bacteria. They’d already run out of antibiotics and she was doing her best to preserve what bandages and tape she still had. She hadn’t opened his arm bandage. Truthfully, she’d looked a little afraid to. He didn’t blame her, the end of the bandage was crusted over with blood. They had found a long waterproof coat in the shack, and he was wearing that. He kept the end of his left arm sleeve tucked over, to keep the wind out. His arm ached and throbbed in the cold. Sometimes so much so that it would threaten to make him pass out.

James closed his eyes, and he wondered if his memories would come back. He hated feeling like an invalid. A burden. He had this impression that he’d never been in this position before, being cared for. He felt like he should be the one leading, looking out for her. There was this restlessness in the pit of his stomach that told him that was his job.

Standing idle, the dizziness and fatigue began to take over and before he knew it, he’d closed his eyes.

“James, wake up. I got us a ride,” she said, shaking him awake. “They’ll take us as far as the border but without papers we’re going to have to sneak our way through. Come on.”

Groggy and stiff he got to his feet. He stumbled every few steps, his legs refusing to function properly, and she looped her arm around his waist, and put his right arm across her shoulders. He tried to pull away. “It’s just pins and needles, I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” she teased lightly. “I don’t want to have to explain to our good Samaritans why the man I’m lugging around, got his nose recently broken to go along with his head wound and missing arm. Humor me, okay?”

James snorted, and let her keep her grip on his waist, but continued to try to support his own weight. It really was just his cramped muscles making him unsteady that he drew closer to her. Not at all because she was the perfect height and fit neatly under his arm. Or that she was warm, and chased away the cold had started to seep through his clothing to his bones.

When the road and small covered truck came into view, he eyed the driver and his son warily. The father climbed back into the cab with his son, nodding at him to lower the rifle. They seemed as nervous and edgy as he did. Whatever Angel had said to them, she seemed to have made heck of a plea case for them to put aside their obvious concerns to not only wait on an open road but give them a ride.

As he climbed in the back of the curtained truck he couldn't shake the feeling that this was a terrible idea. They might put more distance between them and their pursuers, they might even make it faster to the border and the hope of finding allied troops but something was nagging at him that they should wait out the night. Find shelter in the trees, not that he knew if he would even be capable of climbing with one arm or if he even had the energy to attempt hoisting himself.

For hours they bumped and trundled along the dusty road. James dozed on and off, feeling uncomfortably hot with a headache that was making him see double but he didn't offer a word of complaint. It seemed like his anxieties from before were unfounded until the truck sharply pulled off the road and came to an abrupt stop.

His golden-haired protector tapped on the cab wall and the driver, the father, spoke to her in panicked rapid-fire French.

James didn't understand a word but he could read fear without any help. They had trouble ahead.

Angel nodded to herself curtly and answered him, her words decisive and calm. The son sounded extremely agitated but seemed to accept whatever plan she and his father had decided.

Loud German voices outside were impatient and angry, there was the sound of doors opening and slamming shut.

Angel nodded at him. "Play along, until you see my signal."

"What signal?" he hissed in reply, but she was already moving to the edge of the truck. Her hands raised.

The rear flap whipped open and soldiers with rifles trained on them ordered them out of the truck.

"Who are you?" One Nazi soldier demanded.

"I'm a field nurse. My patient is an amputee and has a severe infection. He needs treatment at a proper hospital. Our transport broke down, and this farmer offered us a ride," she said in perfect French.

Another soldier translated for her. And after a quick exchange, the one who'd initially spoken waved James forward.

"Where are you from?" he asked switching seamlessly to French, assuming that James didn't understand German but that he must be a French soldier.

Angel shook her head and put one hand behind her back, making a peace sign against the small of her back. Faster than he could blink, she had drawn a knife from under her jacket and thrown it into the commanding officer's head, then she dove forward and buried her shoulder into the other soldier carrying a rifle.

James only froze for a second under her sudden frenzied assault before he head butted the soldier closest to him, sending him sprawling to the ground. He then grabbed the man's side arm and shot him twice in the chest.

He rolled to his back and took out the other soldier who was about to shoot Angel's exposed back. She had relieved the other soldier of his rifle and his radio pack.

Another shot interrupted the sound of a jeep accelerating before it crashed suddenly and had James turning quickly.

The farmer's son had shot the soldier driving the enemy jeep. James fell back on his heels and dropped the gun, stunned at what he had done as he looked at the four bodies strewn before them. He hadn’t even hesitated. Obviously his body remembered how to react even when his mind didn’t.

“We need to clear the road. Siphon the fuel, take all the weapons and we move, quickly,” Angel instructed them.

They did as she said, and James worked on emptying the fuel tank, into the jerrycan. He felt frustrated that he couldn’t help her as the Farmer and his son helped her put the bodies of the soldiers in the back of the jeep but he could barely keep himself upright. The heat beneath his skin was now like a fiery furnace and sweat trickled down the sides of his face and snaked down his spine. They rolled the Jeep further into the trees and let the incline take it, till it rolled to a stop half buried in thick shrub.

She looked exhausted when she joined him in the back of their truck but she smiled thinly at him and moved closer to check on him. He watched her eyes narrow with concern when her small cool hand touched his cheek. “You’re burning up.”

Kneeling in front of him, she put both hands on either side of his face and glanced at his wounded arm, covered by his coat sleeve and then at his head, before she bit down on her lower lip. She fed him water, and at this point he could barely even stay upright, let alone offer any resistance to anything she wanted him to do.

Night fell and he couldn't muster the energy to even turn his head anymore. She’d helped him to the truck bed and braced his head and shoulders in her lap. With her back against the cab, she absorbed most of the bumps and rattling while keeping him steady. The next thing he knew, he was startled awake by a deafening explosion, and a feeling weightless before his body slammed into something that knocked the air out of his lungs. He lost consciousness after that.

When he next woke up, Angel was half on top of him. Her curves plastered over his lower body and he was embarrassed at how quickly his anatomy responded to that knowledge. He shifted upright and brushed the hair back from her face. Her skin was mottled by a spray of blood and that’s when he noticed that they were in the dirt, while the truck smoked and burned a few feet away.

She was unresponsive as he tried to rouse her and it was only as he attempted to roll her over that he realized that his fever was gone, along with his headache. It took manoeuvring and a bit of shuffling from underneath her, which only made his face flame harder the more his body kept bumping against hers, but he focused on trying not to jostle her roughly while he put her gently on her back. Her face was pale, almost bloodless and her lips were blue.

Panicked he put his cheek closer to her lips. He felt a very faint exhale and he put his fingers to her neck. Her pulse was faint and very slow but he was just relieved to find one. He checked the length of her body for any possible wounds and found that there was a piece of shrapnel protruding from her hip. She had a black coat on so it was hard to tell if she was bleeding. He loosened the belt on her coat and unbuttoned it. Pushing back the folds, he saw that her shirt was soaked with blood. How was she still alive? He turned his head and only just managed not to vomit on her. He lost the contents of his stomach, which wasn't much and couldn't stop the cramping even when he tasted bile.

A pinching sensation in his left shoulder reminded him of his lost forearm and he was suddenly assaulted with the memory of his fall.... Clinging to the bent and weakened rail, knowing it would fail but hopeful it would hold long enough for his friend to help him. But Steve hadn't got to him in time. The rail broke and he fell. He could remember the horror and pain in Steve's eyes. And the feeling of terror as he the cold air rushed passed and the distance between him and the train grew. Even if he miraculously survived the fall, who would come for him, how would they find him? He had closed his eyes and prayed for a quick death. As the train sped from view he had hit the side of the cliff face and the sudden impact was so sharp at first he only felt a flash of pain and a blinding burst of red blurred out his vision, he continued tumbling and rolling until he came to a stop with a dull thump. He stared up at the sky for a minute, before blackness swallowed up the white that surrounded him. His last thought was that the train would be long gone by now. He was alone, and so far he wasn't dead. He prayed that it wouldn't be slow and lingering. Or worse that wild animals would find him first.

Animals hadn't found him, at least not at first. She had. Although the how and why made no sense. He didn't remember everything, his thoughts were foggy and disjointed beyond what had led to his being in that crevasse, but he knew without a doubt that he'd never met her before. He wouldn't forget someone like her. So who was she and how could he help her now that their tables were turned and she was the one who needed him?

::: ::: :::

It turns out he was useless as a champion. He hadn't lasted more than five minutes trying to protect her from behind roughly manhandled by the Soviet soldiers that found the twisted wreckage of the truck. One look at the German made weapons and ammunition not to mention the remains of a no longer operational radio and nothing he said would convince them that they were on the same side.

They'd pulled a bag over his head and that was the last he saw of her. It could have been weeks or only days. Their methods of torture through pain, starvation and isolation wore him down, almost to the point that he wished he could tell them what they wanted. They wanted him to confess to being a spy, and who his handlers were, what information had he gathered and if the Americans were planning to betray them. He refused to lie, and he was no spy.

He was in his cell, almost deliriously weak from lack of food. He was pretty sure he'd developed another infection too. He wasn't sure if they'd changed his arm bandages or not but at least his head wound was healed. The door cracked open slowly. Whoever it was tried to be quiet about it, but there was no chance of that happening when budging that heavy iron door without a whole lot of greasy and some extra leverage.

James startled to see her and for a second he didn't move, thinking maybe she was an illusion. He felt feverish and weak, he probably was imagining the whole thing. But when her fingers closed around her fingers and she was forcing him to his feet, the protest of his knees and legs, pins and needles from being cramped shooting across his nerves promptly told him that this was real.

"We don't have a lot of time. I knocked out the doctor and the guard in my cell. There's a way out across the compound. Change into this," she said pushing a guard's uniform at him. "They're used to seeing me around. No one should question it, but if they do, how good is your Russian? If anyone asks, tell them Commander de Florentine wants the prisoner."

She was right in that no one questioned her being marched through the camp. It was only when they reached the building that would lead to the underground tunnels, that would take them through the mountain and across the border into Switzerland that they hit a snag in their escape. She had paused, seeing something she obviously hadn't noticed before.

There was a room lined with beds. Lots of them, all neatly fitted into one room and there were bars on all the windows and the room bolted shut from the outside. It must have been another prisoner hold, but there was no one inside. A work camp unit maybe?

A siren sounded and they both knew his absence had been discovered. James turned to return her the rifle she had given him as a prop, while he played her escort. She would be a better shot than him, he couldn't hold it steady.

He saw her shake off the shackles that he hadn't fully locked and as they turned a corner, they came face to face with two guards leading a group of young girls.

His companion didn't hesitate. She punched the first guard, knocking him into the wall and swiftly disabled him with something from her wrist. He didn't get back up.

The other guard drew his baton, for some reason neither guard had a gun, but his baton was electrified. James kicked the man away and tried to wrestle the baton away from him, but ended up getting shocked in the stomach. Still weak and barely able to do more than keep upright and trundle along, he sagged in a fetal position, his shrunken stomach cramping, making him dry wretch.

She disabled the other guard and this time he saw the needle she used on him. She turned to the girls. "You can come with us. We can help you find your families."

The girls stood frozen. James didn't understand it. They hadn't moved a muscle during the scuffle.

Angel grabbed one of them by the wrist. It was obviously a mistake. As soon as she touched the girl, the statue like stance broke. She became a fluid fighting machine. He could only blink in shock as the girl, she couldn't be more than twelve, attacked Angel with the skill of a trained fighter. Even he was at full health, he was honest in that even he would have had trouble subduing her, in no small part because he wouldn't want to fight her and second he wouldn’t want to kill her. His girl showed no such restraint.

Angel managed to use her needle trick on the girl but the fight had cost them time. Time they didn't have and soon the corridor was flooded with soldiers.

A woman he hadn't ever seen before, her so blonde it was almost white, waved sharply in their direction. "Put him back in the box, but our nurse. Tell Dr. Ivchenko that I have a new patient for him and deliver her to his room."

He didn't see her again for a long time. With no real way to keep track, it could have been months. They became more aggressive and invasive of their treatment, he was high on whatever new cocktail of mind therapy they were using on him at the time, that he had trouble even remembering his own name. Not that he even remembered what that name meant anymore.

They gave him a gun and pushed a hooded person into the chair one of the guards had put in the room.

"Kill her," his handler ordered.

The person in the chair couldn't even sit up straight.

Another guard, grabbed the back of the hood tight and yanked her head back. She didn't cry out but she made a muffled choking sound.

"What did she do?"

His handler looked angry. Angry wasn't good. Angry meant more time in the box, more drugs, no food and less water. His hand shook and he raised the gun but still he didn't fire. He was weak and his brain felt heavy, sluggish. He had only one good arm. He stopped looking at the other one. He couldn't feel anything below his shoulder. It felt like a dead weight pulling at him most of the time. On other days it gave him so much pain he would be sick all over himself when he couldn't afford to be. They hardly fed him, and what he ate, he needed to keep down but his body, like his mind, weren't his to control anymore.

"Kill her," the man commanded, more savagely this time.

With a shaking hand, he raised his arm and pulled the trigger. She didn't scream, but he heard a sharp hiss of pained breathing.

They wrenched off her hood and the gun slipped from his nerveless fingers as he looked at her bruised face. Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth and stained her teeth when she tried to smile at him. It was more of a wince.

"James, you're not a killer," she managed to gargle at him, before she slumped off the chair.

They dragged her out and the door slammed closed behind them.

"You're sloppy. You missed her heart. She'll die slowly, drowning in her own blood. Continue fighting what you are and you will remain weak, pitiful. Or you can be what you were trained to be, a soldier with a mission."

"Who is she?" he asked, his voice thready.

"She is a spy and a deadly assassin. Never let looks deceive you. The enemy can come in any form. What matters is completing your mission."

As his mind refused to let the image of her face fade, his heart pounded so hard in his chest he thought he would expire on the spot. His head burned with fire and he just wanted it all to stop. Could they make it stop? He remembered her eyes. Her clear green eyes looking at him with compassion and forgiveness. His drug saturated brain could barely remember what those words meant but he knew it brought pain, made his chest hurt even more and his body protested against that. He couldn't fight any more. She would suffer for a moment, but then it would be over. He needed to find the same.

"What is my mission?" He was suddenly numb and the sickening answering smile the man gave him, made him feel like he'd just sold his soul for release that would never find.

::: ::: :::

The months that followed were a blur. He thought he saw her and at first the thought she was another illusion, a fantasy his addled brain gave him to cope with his waking nightmare. It couldn’t be her. She was dead. He'd killed her, yet there she was. Sometimes she smiled at him and whispered his name. Other times she never said a word.

It wasn't until he woke up somewhere new, expecting to feel that same dead weight pulling at him that he realized something had radically changed. Two hands greeted him in response to his brain’s command of self examination. Although one was not human. He blearily blinked up to the sight of a metal arm and hand.

Adrenaline coursed through him when the knowledge hit him with moment of clarity when he realize that with two arms he could fight. He tested his fingers. They worked just like his other hand did.

Then he noticed Dr. Zola and his pulse skipped a beat in his chest. How was that possible? They'd taken the train. Zola should be in prison. Unless Steve had failed. If Steve had failed, that mean that the Red Skull and HYDRA we still a threat.

"He's awake? How do you feel?” the deceptively meek doctor asked him. “It's glorious, is it not?” he said a chilling sparkle lit his eyes behind his thick spectacles. “You will be better, stronger, my finest work yet. You will be the new arm of HYDRA. The Soviet's greatest weapon. Our Winter Soldier."

Zola said that with unfettered pride and James swallowed tightly. He knew then that something had happened to Steve. When he had been held captive by HYDRA before, Zola had experimented on him. HYDRA had wanted to recreate America’s success with the Super Serum. They had only had Red Skull’s blood to work with and Dr. Erskine's preliminary experimental serum and his notes to work in the past. But when they’d captured the team briefly, before Steve managed to help them all escape, they had taken his blood and used it to activate various test subjects they’d been experimenting on, including Falsworth and himself.

James didn’t know exactly what Zola had done to him before, but he knew now with a sinking feeling that whatever it was, that’s what had enabled him to survive this long. The blood loss before Angel had found him, the multiple infections he’d fought off, the blood poisoning that should have killed him, when they hadn’t amputated or even examined the rest of the flesh from his severed forearm. Now this procedure. The glee of success in Zola’s face squashed any lingering doubt over what HYDRA had planned. What they had achieved was dangerous.

He wouldn’t be their weapon. He refused to allow them to use him, he wouldn't let them have their victory. A muffled groan of pain from across the room, had him turning his head to spy another gurney. On that steel examination table lay a petite body, she lay face down only a blood stained blue sheet preserving her modesty. He couldn’t see her face but he knew her instinctively from the way his chest constricted at the sight of her blonde hair. The golden strands were a dirty tangled mess, her back riddled with new and old scars and he was afraid. He was afraid he knew how they would get their complaint soldier.

It had happened more than a few times before. Every time he hesitated in a mission, every time he failed in training, she would be hurt. Sometimes they made him watch, other times they just showed him the aftermath. He didn't understand why he never fought to free her when he watch them torture her, why he didn't scream or fight them. Afterward the guilt and shame would make him sick for days until they would medicate him to keep him from hurting himself.

She was his Angel but he was her curse. It would have been better if she'd never found him. It would have been better for them both if she had left him to die in the ice.

But he was stronger now, better. They had fixed him. He could fight. He could save them both. He made up his mind then that he would free them and take them far away from HYDRA, far away from everything. The Commandos and the S.S.R, if they even bothered to look, had never come for him. They were on their own.

Before he even had a chance to effect an escape after he’d been sloppy showing too much interest in their location and asking questions, they panicked. Either they realized giving someone like him a super bionic arm was a dumb move or their base had been discovered.

The morning after they’d taken Angel away following another round of their ‘conditioning’ for his benefit, and pre-empting a spiral of self-loathing they’d medicated him. He woke up groggy and they injected him with a muscle relaxant and pushed him into some kind of chamber. He didn't like it the second the bed hit his back and tried to resist. It was small, too small. It felt like going into the box all over again.

Only he knew as the air started to chill and freeze over his skin that this different. Worse. The glass fogged over and he raised his hand metal hand to beat on the glass, the weakest point on his prison but the air froze in his lungs and white blanked out his vision and he knew no more.

::: ::: :::

James jerked awake. It had been awhile since his dreams had been that clear and linear. His heart was still racing. He felt stiff and bruised all over, the room was dark but warm and he could hear a fire crackling. He blinked slowly and wondered if he’d fallen asleep face down in the dirt since his eyes felt dry and gritty. He startled when he noticed a man passed out on the lounger across from where he lay on the floor. His eyes widened and he scrambled up against the wall. The man looked like he was out cold and he was as good as naked. His hairy bottom bared to the world with pants too big that hung off one leg. Whatever he’d been doing before he woke up, the room’s only other occupant looked like he’d partied so hard, he hadn’t fully made it comfortable resting position, and lost consciousness halfway to the expensive looking settee.

His head throbbed and he struggled to sit up. Suddenly heavy doors across the room swept open. He’d taken one look at the armored guards and thrown himself for cover. The guards stayed by the door and people dressed in strange period style attire came drifting in.

One of the women carrying dishes caught sight of him sneaking glances from behind the couch and shrieked. Dropping her tray.

The guards drew their swords immediately on alert and with the woman frantically pointing in his direction, James knew he was about to be discovered.

::: ::: :::

Chloe and Steve made their way to the Feasting Hall. There was a small gathering of people outside and curious as to why they weren't going in, Steve led them over to where Fandral stood next to a group of women and men who were carrying trays for the morning meal.

"Is something wrong?"

"Thor warned us to keep at bay while he attempts to move the man who becomes the Green Beast and subdue the soldier."

Chloe arched an eyebrow. "You mean, Dr. Banner?" she said slightly cross that people still seemed forget that the man was still an educated and caring human being behind the misunderstood Hulk.

Steve glanced at Chloe and together shared a silent engage. In agreement, they entered the room swiftly.

“Thor,” Steve called to his Hammer-wielding friend, “Chloe can keep him calm while we reason with him and…” He stopped cold when he saw that Bucky was on his knees while Thor had him in a headlock. His oldest friend was red in the face, rapidly turning blue while he clawed at Thor’s unyielding grip.

“Yield, son of Barnes. I do not wish you harm, but if you continue to fight my people I will be forced to do so.”

Chloe let go of Steve’s hand and rushed to Bucky’s side.

James saw her enter the room, the open concern on her face and how healthy and beautiful she was confused him further but he surrendered himself to the burly warrior’s grip. There was no more reason to fight. She was safe, and she would keep him safe.

Thor felt his captive sag but was wary to let him go. He loosened his grip but kept one arm across the soldier’s chest, watching with concern as Chloe drew closer.

When she was within arm’s reach, James grabbed her with both hands and buried his face in her stomach. “I’m sorry,” he howled, the broken sound muffled by the layers of her thick skirt. “Forgive me?”

His shoulders shook and his arms tightened around her waist, his fingers digging into the muscles in her lower back. Chloe let out a startled gasp of pain, and before she could even muffle it or ask for Jame’s to loosen his grip, Steve and Thor were tearing him away.

Still disorientated, confused and upset, he started fighting them off. Steve didn’t want to fight him, but when he realized why his friend wasn’t behaving like himself, he grew angry. “You’re drunk?” he yelled at Bucky, his voice tight and incredulous. After Bucky had woken up clear headed and pain free and he’d seen at what his sudden detox had cost Chloe, he’d sworn not to touch drugs or alcohol again. He also confessed that he was going to use this second chance to better his life and do penance for his past - even though he hadn’t been given much choice of his actions - and he wanted to do it sober.

Bucky turned his frustrations and guilt on Steve. “You weren’t there. You don’t get to judge me.”

“Captain, after the meal, mead flows freely. It is my error that it was served to your friend and to Dr. Banner. You can not lay blame at their feet.”

Chloe nodded and touched Steve’s shoulder, as soon as she saw the hostility and felt the high tension, she’d been actively working to defuse the darker emotions in a blanket of calm. The stronger the emotions and the more parties involved, the harder it was for her influence others but her method was definitely less aggressive than throwing a bucket of water over all three of them but arguably more dictatorial. Her experiences with Loki forced her to see her abilities without bias and she was very careful over how she used them, when and for what purpose. In this case, she only pushed them to back down, for now.

“I’m fine. Let’s get them to a quieter room. Dr. Banner can sleep it off, and we can talk.”

Thor let Bucky free, and Steve reluctantly stepped back from being up in his face. Chloe checked over Bruce to make sure he was still sleeping restfully, someone had been considerate and covered him. His much too large pants were neatly folded next him, as he slept through all the commotion, cocooned in a deep crimson cloak.

Chloe spied Sif, and noticed the other woman was remarkably unlayered as per her usual attire. She nodded in silent thanks for her kindness.

“He had more need of it than I,” Sif said with an answering, respectful nod. “Let him know it is a gift. I do not require its return,” she added with a rare blush.

Chloe only just smothered a giggle. With how well tangled Bruce had become in the fabric, she didn’t doubt that Sif was happy to part with it. “I’ll tell him.”

Knowing the men weren’t going to make a move on their own, she nudged Steve in the direction of the lounger. “Give Thor a hand lifting Dr. Banner. He can stay in our room. There’s some place I’d like to take you today anyway.”

In the quiet of their room, Chloe ushered James to the wash room and gave him a glass or water to drink, while she wrung out a cloth to clean the grime and sweat from his face and neck. She was so used to caring for the sick and wounded, it was second nature to her and she didn’t remember how uncomfortable he got when people invaded his personal space or touched him. He flinched from her approach and it was only when their eyes met that he hesitantly allowed her closer.

“What did you dream?” she asked quietly. It was a long time ago for her, but she remembered vaguely that she had been his confident once upon a time, and she had helped him process his memories and his nightmares. It had been difficult getting him to open up but her calm, non-judgemental chatter had slowly eased him into talking. And it was as though once the tap had edged open, it couldn’t be stopped. The longer he was free from HYDRA and whatever process they used to wipe him, probably a combination of electro-therapy and the side effects of the deep freeze, the more he remembered.

James hated what he’d become, what they’d made him do. Some nights he woke up screaming and before any of them could even ask if he was okay, he’d be in the bathroom vomiting violently. He refused to look any of them in the eye for hours afterward, and wouldn’t talk to Steve especially, sometimes for days. It’s what had pushed them to breaking point at one stage that she could recall. She smiled to herself remembering using intensive acupuncture to relax James and draw out all his tension.

“You have a beautiful smile,’ he said softly, breaking her out of her reverie.

Chloe bit down on her lower lip and twitched a shy half smile at him. “Thank you but I think you’re avoiding my question,” she said gently. “You put up quite a fight in there. The serum coupled with your adrenaline would have burned through any lingering effects of the mead. We’re here for you, if you want to talk about it.”

James glanced at Steve, who stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. He wore a frown, that cut a deep crease between his brows. He sighed and decided he didn’t have the care or the energy to fight or worry about his friend’s feelings. He had to believe that Steve would at least try to understand without trying to murder him first. Looking at Chloe briefly, imploring her wordlessly with his eyes, praying she understood his remorse, he dropped his gaze to his hands. The hands that had snuffed out so many lives, some of them with his fingers wrapped around their necks, others with knives or wire, and many more through the scope of his rifle. “I dreamt of you.”

“Oh,” she said her hand falling away.

She pursed her lips, and narrowed her eyes slightly but instead of stepping away, as he expected her to she put the cloth down, and tilted his face up to the light. He blinked rapidly while she inspected his eyes.

“You don’t have a concussion and your pupil response is normal.” She released his chin and wiped her hands on her skirt. “You were saying?”

James blinked again and glanced at Steve, his friend was grinding his teeth as sure sign he wasn't happy with current circumstances but he continued to stay where he was and said nothing.

He hunched forward letting his long hair fall like a curtain between Steve's level, penetrating gaze and himself. He hoped she was right, and it had helped before, to talk things through. He met her eyes and drew in a few fortifying breaths before trusting his voice to speak without nerves betraying his fractured emotional state. "It was the day I thought I killed you. The day they made me kill you. The day I accepted their control.”

She looked at him with compassion and understanding and took his hand. His metal hand and he almost wrenched away. Was she crazy? He couldn’t always control his grip. His touch was limited to the current transmitted between the metal alloy and the nanotechnology beneath the surface. The effectiveness of the intricate system was subject to extremes in temperature, electrical disturbances and as they most recently discovered, high powered magnetic fields. It was a gamble to bank on his control of the artificial limb. A risk that he would never take when it came to some he cared about. He tried to slip his hand free from hers without seeming to be obvious about it, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings when it was clear to anyone watching that she was trying to comfort him.

Chloe wouldn't let go and she squeezed her fingers between his cold metal ones. "You had your orders. They were prepared to kill me anyway. I wasn't useful to them because I refused to cooperate. You had Serum in your blood, and they had plans for you. James, I told you then that you weren't a killer and you're not. I know who you are.”

He struggled to accept what she was saying, that she didn’t blame him. Didn’t hate him for what he’d done to her. What he’d let her suffer. His shoulders shook and he felt a warm hand close over his shoulder, he glanced up to see that Steve had moved. His eyes burned with tears when he saw the forgiveness and acceptance in his friend’s eyes. They were slightly red-rimmed and he squeezed tightly and nodded silently in Chloe’s direction.

Sure enough, when he turned back he noticed she wasn’t done dispensing with her logic to dispel his guilt over the past. She crouched in front of him, so he wouldn’t be able to hide his face even if he wanted to.

“Even mostly out of your mind, you didn't know then but you do now, I could feel you fighting. And I could see it your eyes. You're ambidextrous but you're a better shot with your right hand. You didn't shoot me in the heart, and you barely clipped my lung. That’s a very difficult shot to make. Nearly any spot in the chest is guaranteed to hit an artery or a vital organ. I’ve never seen you miss and I think you knew what you were doing. I was better in a day and because they noticed me heal from that, they didn’t dump me like they originally planned. I had refused to train their girls, and their mind games didn’t work on me, so prior to my failed execution they didn’t know what to do with me and their facility wasn’t really equipped for long term prisoners,” she said with a dark depreciating smile.

Chloe could sense how difficult it was for him to accept her forgiveness even after hearing the truth of her belief in him. She squeezed his hand and release her grip. She stood and stepped back. Going to a small cabinet, she took out a satin pouch and removed two pieces of tribal looking jewellery.

“We’ll give you some space to process, but I hope you know we're both here for you. Anytime you want to talk, or just sit. No one wants to be alone all the time," she said with a genuine smile. Extending her hands, she showed him one of the pieces she was holding. "I never thought I'd get to use these. It's a part of Asgardian culture that's fallen out of use. Mothers wrapped them around their baby's ankles at birth. Unlike mood rings these actually detect and reveal hormone secretions through the skin. They reflect in shades of colors, the intensity of the hue signifying the level of secretion; there's red, yellow, blue and sometimes a blend of colors. Red's for anger, frustration and such, blue for peacefulness, rest and tranquility, yellow for happiness, joy, love, you'll figure out the rest."

James took the one she offered him. "It's white right now and why two?"

"The other one's for the the mother of course," she said with a slight laugh. "Training to understand a child's cues. Later it's about self awareness, understanding your own emotional state. It's white because the stone isn't in contact with your skin to detect anything. I'd like to keep the twin stone on me, if it's okay with you. When I'm near you I can sense how you feel but there are proximity limits and..."

"You don't trust me to ask for help?" Chloe gave him a look that reminded him of their encounters in the past when she thought he was being particularly dense or stubborn. He quickly held up the ends. "Tie it on for me?" he asked her, his blue eyes large and contrite.

She gestured for him to hold his hair. "There," she said, tying it in place. "Some day you can give it to someone you want to share your heart with, and I'll happily hand it over." She kissed James on the forehead.

Steve took her hand when she reached for him. "I'm going to go past the kitchen for a basket and then we can get going for the day. There's somewhere I want to take you."

He glanced back at his friend. "You'll be okay keeping an eye on Dr. Banner on your own?"

James knew what Steve was really asking, was he okay with them leaving him alone in the palace while they went off wherever. He nodded. "I'll make sure he doesn't get angry," he joked mildly.

Steve looked like he was about to change his mind about leaving, so Chloe tugged him along. "They'll be fine."


	4. Precious Life Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A seemingly innocent question sparks a grief from long ago, that Chloe had let fade but had never forgotten. Being in his arms saves her from spiralling and letting the loss consume her.

Laden with food from the kitchens and a shoulder bag filled with various other supplies, they left the palace halls for the stables where two horses had been readied for riding. It wasn't his first time on a horse, he'd ridden war horses that his team had liberated in Northern Italy from Nazi control but it took a little adjusting to get used to being in a saddle again. Chloe looked completely at ease, which was a sight to behold. He hadn't forgotten Lois and Clark sharing a story of Chloe's aversion to working or being anywhere near animals. It was her firm belief that they had an instinctual flight or fight response to her. And that accidents always seemed to happen if she got too close. That certainly wasn't the woman he was following now. He watched mesmerised as she confidently lead them out through the city and along a dirt trail that lead up into the mountains. It was several hours before reached a secluded and picturesque waterfall landscape.

They led the horses to the water to drink and then tied them to a nearby tree. Chloe unpacked their supplies and set them down on a large flat rock near the pool before linking her arm around Steve’s and resting her head against his bicep.

“The years I was here before other worlds and finally Vanaheim, this was the one place I could escape to be alone," she said nodding at the gushing waterfall. She tilted her face up and shaded her eyes with one hand to study his profile backlit by the midday sun. "You've been quiet for awhile now, feel like sharing what's troubling you?”

Steve twitched a small smile that didn't reach his eyes and let out a mirthless chuckle. “Sometimes I forget how well you can read people. And about the empathy radar.”

Chloe reached down and squeezed his hand, threading her fingers between his. “Does it bother you?” she asked quietly, studying their hands rather than meeting his eyes.

Steve turned and took her other hand in his and ran his thumbs over the backs of her hands. He waited, tugging her hands lightly in the hopes that she would lift her face to his. “Hey? I knew you were gifted before we ever got serious and it didn't change how felt about you. Does it seem a little unfair that I can't hide what I'm feeling, sometimes...but not why you’d think,” he added quickly. “I don't always have a clear handle on why I feel the way I do and I don't want to hurt you or worry you when it could be nothing.”

Chloe gave him a narrow look while smiling slightly, her brows coming together as she regarded him. “It's usually not nothing,” she prompted gently.

Steve nodded and let out a slow considering breath. He glanced away for a moment before lifting her hands and pressing a light kiss against her fingers. “Earlier you said you didn't think you'd ever get to use those stones. Was it because you thought I’d never come for you?” His voice was tight and he struggled to get the final words out.

Chloe pulled one of her hand loose and touched his face. She held her hand to his cheek and kept his gaze until his throat stopped working so quickly and his eyelashes were less wet. She shook her head. “I always hoped, Steve. Part of me never stopped, but Loki made it extremely difficult to escape and he kept me isolated. I… he's not the reason I never thought that I-- That we would ever have children.”

Chloe felt her chest ache and a chill raced down her spine, she pulled away from Steve and hugged herself tightly, wrapping the edges of her cloak around her body more firmly.

Steve stepped closer to her and put his hand on her elbow but didn't force her to accept him. He waited, he could see in her face that whatever she was struggling with was painful. He would wait, give her as long as she needed. He promised to be there for her always. He wanted to know everything but it would be on her terms and when she was ready.

::: ::: :::

“Are you going to confine yourself forever?”

Chloe snorted. “I'm not going to live forever. Even Odin ages, Asgardians are not immortal.”

Loki smirked. “True. Although I wouldn't let the court hear you say that if I were you. People tend to frown on the notion that the All Father could be weak.”

“I never said weak,” she snapped at him. “Are you bored, Loki? Is that why you keep coming here? Give me a staff and I could certainly make things more entertaining for you.”

He shook his head, his eyes sparkling with mirth at her visible annoyance at his presence. “Such fire. Do you not find it exhausting? My brother and his followers can be infuriating but I spend more time plotting and executing pranks to reveal their arrogance than raging at their stupidity and ignorance.”

Chloe smothered a laugh. “Their arrogance? That's rich coming from you.”

“You think me arrogant?”

She arched an eyebrow and didn't dignify his question with a response. His ostentatious helmet should be answer enough. Did he not own any mirrors?

Loki offered his elbow and gave her a challenging look when she made no move to take it. “Surely I have proven I mean you no harm? I have never met anyone as disagreeable and bitter over being rescued as you.”

Chloe scowled. “If you returned me to my home, I wouldn’t such a bitch.”

Loki returned her scowl. “Must you be so crude tongued?”

She curled her hands into fists at her sides. “What is it you want to show me?”

“I promised to show you the universe, did I not? Your journey awaits, my lady. What better place to begin than home?”

Her heart quickened at the mention of home, but she soon gathered when they headed for the steps leading down to the city, that he meant his home and not Earth. She let out a resigned and weary breath. Perhaps one day, she would find a way back home. A way back to her time. For the present, she had always been keen to learn new things. Never one to back down from a challenge or turn away knowledge, she would absorb everything he revealed to her, and perhaps she would even find something useful to use against him. Force him to help her.

They spent hours walking the streets. People bowed or made a path for him wherever they went. For his part, Loki was courteous and gave each citizen who greeted them, a respectful nod of acknowledgement.

They took the midday meal at an inn that served the best beef stew she’d ever tasted. She took note that most Asgardians were build like thick walls of muscle. The men ate like it was their last meal and worked from sun up till sun down, either in the fields as gardeners, carpenters and stonemasons or trained as warriors for Asgard's army. The women worked just as tirelessly. The woman who worked at the inn was almost as big as her husband, and took two burly men out by their ears when they’d had a little too much ale and attempted an impromptu wrestling match at the bar.

It took them most of the afternoon to reach the fringes of the city’s capital. The buildings were spaced further apart, and in the distance on the hill she could see a farm house with a smoking chimney.

“It’ll get dark soon,” she said apropos. The sun was obviously fading, and she was growing tired of being on her feet.

Loki seemed sense her flagging and turned them back. A shout caused them to pause in their walk though and they looked around. Behind them, a man was tearing down the dirt road, waving madly.

“Help, please help. My prince, madam, my wife… She needs help.”

Loki scowled. “We will send up a healer when we pass through the town.”

The distraught and disheveled man grasped Chloe’s arm. “Please,” he begged her.

“Remove your hands,” Loki said coldly.

The man quickly released Chloe, his expression fearful and apologetic but no less pleading.

Chloe took a step away from Loki and closer to the man. “What is wrong with your wife?”

“She is pregnant. She complained of pains as we were tending the fields and then we noticed the bleeding. We sent for the birthing maid but she say the baby is stuck and unless a healer can cut him out, both will die.”

Chloe lifted her long skirts. “You could call for someone. Use your gifts,” she said in irritation to her travelling companion. Then she took off in a sprint toward the house on the hill. Behind her, she heard Loki’s muttered curse.

“Infernal, obstinate, wilful, tender-hearted woman.”

He followed her and they spent their entire evening until the early hours of the next morning, helping the couple safely deliver their first child, a healthy baby boy.

Chloe managed to keep both mother and baby calm during a difficult and long birth process. The healer had to manually turn the baby within the womb while being very careful not to put too much pressure on the partially detached placenta that had come away when the mother had gone into premature labor.

She didn't mention anything but Loki knew that she had also been keeping both of them alive, supplementing the mother’s blood loss throughout the process.

When the baby was safely in his father’s arms and the mother was resting, the afterbirth clear and the healer pronouncing her stable, Chloe let herself collapse from physical and emotional exhaustion. The drain from using her gifts almost wiping her out completely.

The healer observed her with a keen eye. He sent Loki a shrewd and chastening look before giving Chloe a smile of gratitude mingled with a touch of pity. “It was a courageous and selfless thing you did. I don't think they would have survived had it not been for your calming influence. I am sorry we couldn't do more for you.”

Loki shot him a cold warning glare and the man wisely bit his tongue from speaking further but the damage was already done.

Her innate curiosity peaked, Chloe asked, “What do you mean?” She couldn't recall ever seeing the healer before.

“Did you not inform her of the extent of her injuries. How close to death she was and of her loss?” The man looked angrier by the minute. “We defied Odin to provide her with the care she desperately needed. She has a right to understand, to grieve…”

“That's enough,” Loki growled, his voice barely a whisper but hard and cold as ice.

The Asgardian physician bowed low, his movements stiff. “As you command, Prince Loki.” He nodded respectfully to Chloe, catching her eye and seeming to plead with her silently before taking his leave.

With the new family of three quietly bonding, Chloe marched herself out of the room to the kitchen where she knew Loki would follow. He was stoic and unmoved by her pacing when he graced her with his company.

“I remember being in a bad way. I thought I had died till I figured angels wouldn't necessarily speak French. You left me in that hospital after the healers had patched me up. You went against Odin’s orders not once but twice for me. I want to know why and why do I get the feeling you haven't told me everything because you're afraid I can't handle it?"

“It seems unnecessary to distress you over that which can not be changed,” he said calmly.

If he was hoping to mollify her by appearing rational and composed he was mistaken.

“Why was the healer pitying? What is it that you didn't want him to say?" Chloe demanded, her green eyes flashing with anger and impatience.

“You were with child. And the child was lost. The extent of your injuries were such… it is unlikely that you will ever carry another.”

Her heart slowed, and her chest got extremely tight. Her eyes stung and her vision swam as tears pooled in her lashes. She felt blood roaring in her ears and her throat closed over. As a painful pulse thrummed at her temples she felt indescribable pain lance through her stomach. The ghost of Nebula’s blade followed by Thanos’ fist brutalising her body. And the body of the fragile life that had been growing inside her.

With a strangled sob, Chloe collapsed.

::: ::: :::

Steve held her as her body shook uncontrollably. Tears streamed in hot rivers down her cheeks and wet his shirt. He held her and rocked her, keeping her tightly anchored against his chest as she choked out her words, telling of her pain, the loss; their loss.

He felt tears burning behind his eyes and an immovable lump lodging in his throat. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head and just breathed her in. She was real. She was in his arms. He thought he’d lost her. Nothing else mattered. She was alive.

“Of course once I got through the shock, I promptly planted myself in denial. First thing I did was hunt that healer down and grill him. He wasn't hiding but I almost wished he had. He showed me the recordings of when I'd been brought in. I was a mess and I'm so sorry you went through that, that you had to see--”

“Me?” Steve choked in surprise. “Love, it's not as if you chose to end up like that.”

Chloe bit her lip and ran her fingers absently over the golden threading of his tunic collar. “I knew something bad was going to happen," she said meeting his eyes through her haze of tears. "I saw you covered in blood and I thought, I hoped that if anyone was going to suffer it would be me and not you. Turns out I can hurt you even without trying.”

“None of what happened is your fault. You didn't chose to carry the Time Stone and you didn't ask to be in that Arena. That's on Loki.”

Hugging her arms around his waist she pressed a kiss against his Adam’s apple which was still bobbing quite obviously in his throat. “Nebula’s blade ruptured my uterus among other things. The lingering essence of the Stone preserved us long enough for a much younger Loki to find me in the past. I was badly wounded and lost so much blood that even my healing ability would not have saved me. The healers had to make a choice. Remove our baby and save me, or let us both die. Foreigners aren't really welcome on Asgard, and word of my presence reached Odin before a decision could be made. He ordered that I be returned to my own people, if I was to die without intervention, that was the natural order of things," she said with a touch of bitterness.

Steve waited quietly, patiently for her to continue.

And after a pause and a fortifying breath, she did. "Loki, with his mother's help, temporarily overruled that order. They would save me first. The healer explained that internal damage was extensive. Loki rescued me from Hydra a couple of years later, after returning me to Earth as per Odin's command. Because I was unconscious he took me to the healers. I was physically alright, but what they hadn't been able to properly assess in the past with the wounds still fresh was how much scar tissue I would develop. Without the Time Stone, I could no longer unconsciously reverse wounds I took or received myself. And turns out, along with my mutant X gene. I also inherited the genetic flaw of aggressive cell memory. I scar permanently and deeply. The healer confirmed what Loki had already told me. That because of the thick scarring, it would be unlikely that I would ever be able to carry a child to term.”

Steve kissed her forehead and drew her toward the blanket she had laid out earlier. He sat and pulled her into his arms, drawing her back against his chest. He rubbed his palms up and down her arms, hoping to chase away the chill and the raised goose pimples on her skin. “Our child should have a name,” he urged her softly.

Chloe nodded and glanced up at him from the corner of her eye. Her bottom lip trembled and her eyes flooded again. “I did choose a name. I hope you don't mind.” She dashed the back of her hand across her closed eyelids and took a long steadying breath. “I was 9 weeks. Too early to tell on a normal scan but Asgardian diagnostic and treatment equipment are very advanced and they’re extremely detailed in their screening. She would have been perfect, Steve. A perfect little girl. None of my mutations or anomalies, and all of your strength. I liked to dream that she would have been smart, with the both of us I mean how could she not be?” she joked mildly. “And maybe she would have your artistic eye and skill. I would have loved for her to stay far away from the life we had. Choose to be a painter or a writer. Something we both couldn't pursue ourselves.”

Steve hugged her shoulders briefly and then laced their fingers. He squeezed her hands and drew them up to press firm kisses to her palms. “She would have been whatever she chose to be. We would have been behind her 100%. What did you name her?”

“Sarah Ann Rogers,” she said, her voice catching on a sob.

She pursued her lips firmly to keep from letting the riot of grief and regret from overwhelming her. If she started down that path again, she might never stop. Loki had been right, she hadn’t handled her discovery well, and if not for his constant shadowing and unwanted meddling, she might not have survived her grief. It was why, despite of all the cautionary urgings in remembrance of her future dealings with the man, she couldn’t bring herself to truly despise him or wish him bodily harm. He had rescued her, not once but twice and all he did was continue to look out for her in his own overbearing and convoluted way. His care which had fostered a reluctant friendship on her part, had turned into an obsession and destroyed any hope of building anything lasting or real between them in the end. Despite her sliver of hope that he could change, leave the path she’d witnessed before, the caring man with insecurities and grand dreams had become something twisted, ugly and deadly as time ticked on. She still pitied the man. The polar feelings she had always had concerning Loki never failed to give her a headache. She knew Steve wanted her to open up, but she wasn’t sure she could ever explain her long, complex and marred history with Loki.

They stayed locked together, her breathing coming in short and sharp gasps that seemed to come from deep within her wounded soul. Steve did his best to absorb her pain and channel his unending love for her but he wasn't the gifted empath. He could only hold her and not let go. “She will be returned to us some day. I believe that,” he said, surprising himself at how certain and clear he sounded to his own ears.

Chloe nodded, loving him even more for his faith and his words of hope. “I named her for our mothers. Martha and I share the same middle name,” she offered with a glimmer of a real smile, while tilting her chin up so that she could meet his gaze. “And my mother’s middle name is Annelise.”

“Thank you,” Steve said, his voice a little gruff. “My mother would have adored you. You're a lot alike; caring, determined, selfless. She would have been honored.”

Shifting around in his arms and kneeling between his splayed legs, she reached for his face and kissed him with all the love and longing she had kept in her heart the many years they'd been part. When she broke away for breathing room, his face was flushed and he was the one panting heavily for a change. She gave him a blinding smile of pride at the sense of accomplishment she felt at rendering him so out of sorts.

“Wow,” his breathed. His face flaming harder when her hand brushed up against a very aroused area of his body. He captured the not so innocently questing hand and anchored it against his thundering heart that pounded loudly behind his sternum. “Good thing we’re alone, my darling. I need cooling off and you're coming with.”

Chloe had no hope of escape as he loosened her robe and pulled off his shirt with one deft hand before he tossed them both into the mountain pool.

She came up spluttering, her thin undergarment gown clinging to her body like a second skin. The water had turned the fabric transparent, and she struggled to even find her footing with the billowy fabric tangling between her legs. She was about to scream at him that they hadn't brought any change of clothing but she caught the hungry and appreciative look in his eyes and it stopped her protest cold. As he drank in her body with his hot gaze, the feeling his look evoked made her twitch and her inner muscles ache with a similar need and she swallowed thickly as she watched water droplets snake down his glistening naked chest.

Wet clothing was soon forgotten as the made short work of getting properly undressed. They made love in a small alcove behind the waterfall and later dressed in the articles of clothing that hadn't gotten wet. Her cloak was an adequate covering but Steve’s tunic only just hung past his crotch. If he even bent slightly he gave her an impressive eyeful. She told him to sit down and insinuated herself between his thighs. A strategic move to preserve his modesty, she explained. His smirk and raised eyebrow told her how much he believed that excuse.

Steve felt the outline of her bottom right up against his groin and his body was having a really hard time deciding what he was more hungry for, food or another round of mutual sensual exploration with his wife. He settled for the grapes she decided to push into his mouth since he could feel her stomach protesting her need to eat from where he held her with his hands protectively splayed against her abdomen.

They spent all day in the shade of a large willow tree and he drew various sketches in the blank book she'd thoughtfully packed for their outing. Chloe dosed where she lay comfortably with her head in his lap and her hands tucked under his tunic, occasionally playing with the fine hairs across his navel. He’d had to stop once when she'd turned her head to put her lips over an exposed and hyper aware part of his body and for the next hour, his sketches were forgotten.

They'd cleaned off in the pool again and Steve suggested they should dress to avoid a chill now that the sun was fading and also to avoid anymore distractions, no matter how delightful and welcome they were.

Seeing her chance while he began to pack things away, and offered her their dried clothing, Chloe hastily shimmied back into her long chemise and dove for Steve’s sketchbook while he pulled his shirt over his head. From all his page turning, she knew he had done several drawings and she was eager to absorb them to memory. An insatiable thirst for his art had been a yearning that had gone as long unfulfilled as having the man himself. He’d been extremely apprehensive about sharing his art with anyone when they first gotten together, and it had taken encouragement, pleading and plenty of bribery, but eventually he always relented and showed her his work, but in this instance she was so desperate she didn’t want to give him a chance to say no. She already flipped through a couple pictures of herself before he snatched it away.

“You've never hidden them before,” she said with an exaggerated pout. “It's been decades since I've had the pleasure of seeing your handwriting or your art, please.”

Steve sighed. She wasn't playing fair. He didn't want to ever deny her anything. “You'll get to see more soon. Just not yet. It's a surprise,” he reasoned. He dropped his head and looked peered at her through his lashes, he sincerely hoped she would stop looking so dejected even if it was only her teasing. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand firm if she didn’t.

“Okay, Mr. Mysterious,” she said with a put upon sigh, she crossed her arms under her chest, smirking a little when she saw where his eyes immediately drifted. She vaguely remembered James once making a jibe that Steve loved boobs. Her dear husband was so easy. “I'll let you keep your secrets. If you promise to write me something I can keep right now.”

Steve gave her a self assured grin and lunged for her, his thick strong arms and nibble fingers trapping her easily. He swept her off her feet to her giggles and spun her around while holding her tightly against his chest. His expression of contentment and joy mirroring her own, he slowly lowered her to her feet, he dipped his head low and touched his forehead to hers. “I'll write you a letter that you can keep with you always, so you'll never have to remember what my handwriting looks like and think of me. Not that I ever plan on letting you out of my sight again.”

Chloe touched his cheek giving him a sorrowful look. “We had no choice in the matter, love. If we have any hope of healing, we need to let it go.”

“Be mine for always?” he asked.

Chloe gave him her brightest smile and pushed all the desire, acceptance and love she had for him, so he could feel exactly what she felt. He almost fell to his knees in the onslaught, it was only his secure hold on her that kept them upright. “Silly man, as if there could ever be anyone else.”


	5. Chemistry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mind is a delicate balance of memory and chemistry. For someone with the power to manipulate hormone chemistry, strong loyalties and love can be tested to breaking point.

It would have been everything she promised, had it not been for the bitter and manipulative enchantress ruling the lands with an iron grasp.

Alfheim was to be his peace. After the devastation the Hulk had caused in Wakanda, and seeing the loss the people of Sokovia had suffered, and the things the media were saying about him, Bruce knew he would never be accepted anywhere on Earth. At least nowhere that had televisions or Internet. He'd spent a few months in remote islands of the Pacific for a while, drifting as a doctor yet somehow even in the middle of a dense tropical jungle he managed to get picked up by Loki and thrown into a alien fighting pit.

Until that final battle alongside Thor and the Captain, he'd feared he'd stay a beast forever. A slave to a powerful master. Even in the company of people he quietly dared to count as friends, he didn't feel at ease on Asgard and the Hulk let him felt his sentiments too.

His edginess and fidgeting made the Winter Soldier wary of him but Chloe didn't let him sweat long. He'd only been Bruce for less than a day before she pulled him aside and asked him what he would like to do. If there was anywhere he'd prefer to be than there. When he wondered aloud why she had even asked, she explained her gift and he was surprised and moved by her concern.

He said he didn't belong in luxury or surrounded by too many people. He was dangerous. She had nodded quietly and said she knew of a place he could be alone. But she has also expressed that she didn't believe that he didn't deserve to have nice things, and to feel spoiled once in awhile. Everyone deserves love and a chance to prove their worth was her opinion. He might have a destructive power but that wasn't all the Hulk was. She remembered him fighting Thanos. The battle could have been very different if he hadn't fought alongside Clark and Thor. Both the Hulk and Bruce Banner were brave and heroic. Both in different ways and no one more valued or important than the other. Together with brains and brawn they were incredibly formidable.

Hulk had swelled with pride at her words and Bruce had been felt humbled. She smiled and patted his hands, her eyes sparkling and telling him in her expression that she knew exactly how both of them felt.

She had asked Heimdall to send them to this planet. A long way for the planet's largest city, several days travel by foot in any direction to any community was a small log cabin, built in the side of a mountain. It was hidden deep in a forest of ancient trees that stretched upward to the sky. The tops of the trees couldn't even be seen of an evening when the air cooled and the mist rolled in.

The planet was home to a race of peaceful and spiritual beings. The Elves of Alfheim keep mostly to themselves and spent their days learning and improving their lands, their people at one with nature or studying the stars which are so bright they are visible during the day. The sun never fully faded 274 days of their 302 day planetary orbit. You could tell day from evening however when the sky would turn a foggy gray and air would cool, mist falling from the clouds to blanket the ground and nourish the earth. It never rained, but the mountain falls never ceased to flow. Everywhere there was seemingly endless orchards of green except for the very tallest mountain peaks that were white capped and could only be seen between breaks in the clouds.

He lived in the place she had once called a temporary home in her many years stolen away from Earth and it was everything she promised until he was stumbled upon by a suspiciously territorial hunting party.

Everything went pear shaped from there.

::: ::: :::

Chloe held her shoulder and breathed through the burning pain. They'd had to make a strategic retreat when they learned exactly why Heimdall couldn't see their friend on Alfhiem anymore. In fact, he didn't think the citizens of Alfhiem were behaving as they normally would. It seemed as though much of the people were concentrated in the capital city and for a roaming forest people, it was very strange.

She had grown even more concerned when Thor's emissary did not return. Instead of sending a fighting force to investigate, Chloe managed to convince him to allow her to go using the Gamemaster's ship they had repaired. If someone was watching the skies for a Bifrost then they would better be able to surprise a possible enemy with a cloaked ship. Odin agreed with her plan but only if she took Sif along. Lady Sif was Captain of their Army after all and she could call in reinforcements through Heimdall, if necessary.

Turns out persuading Thor not to send more men was a very good call. As it was, she was having a very hard time concentrating her focus on controlling the Hulk's primitive rage, while trying desperately to quell her protective instincts. Mostly it was perilously close to shattering her control while she valiantly tried not to lose her mind over possibly losing Steve and Bucky to Lorelei.

"I should have remembered her absence from the prisons below," Sif said bitterly, her anger directed at herself as much as Lorelei for the circumstances they'd found themselves in. "She was transferred during Loki's reign. I should have known."

"It's not your fault," Chloe said her voice pinched and labored. Steve was almost carrying her now. Her vision was blurring at the edges. One of the elven warrior archers had remarkably good aim. It was only Steve's accurate throw with his shield that had cut through most of the arrows intended to make them all human pincushions.

"She has no love for me, I have imprisoned her twice. But why her loathing for you?" Sif asked.

"She and Loki had something of an accord. I wouldn't be surprised if he arranged her freedom on the understand that she raise an army to do his bidding. Perhaps in the event that he ever lost control of Asgard."

"It is a plan that has his earmark," Sif agreed.

"I also may have overheard him complain to me, as an unwilling and captive audience, that she may have developed an unhealthy attachment to him. She could have followed him to where he was keeping me. It would explain why she recognized me. Although I certainly don't remember ever meeting her."

"Memory lane can wait. Aren't we busy trying to free these people from whatever mind control she's using on them?" Bucky said his impatience clear.

Steve dressed Chloe's shoulder and slid his shield on his arm. "We take her out. This ends now."

"Not so fast, soldier," Chloe said putting a staying hand on his chest. "No way I'm letting her get either of you."

"I can take her. I don't even have to get close," Bucky growled argumentatively. He snatched up a long spear from the armory hold to match his Norse design shield. Chloe understood his anger. He hated any kind of psychological manipulation. It hit a raw nerve and dredged up memories he had trouble dealing with on a regular basis without any need for prompting. He had no experience with Lorelei personally but he wouldn't tolerate her or show her mercy on principle. Which is why Chloe was even more fearful to even let them within sight of each other. She'd prefer there to be no killing period but she wouldn't hesitate to put her down if it meant saving her family.

Outside of the cloaked ship something impacted the strong, fortified hull. With the cloak in place, there was no protective force shield. The ship rocked and the floor beneath their feet swayed. Metal groaned and one looked at the external cameras showed the Hulk smashing the hull.

"Sif and I will handle Lorelei. You two need to heal with the Hulk."

Steve caught her elbow. "Bucky and Sif can take care of the Hulk. I'm not leaving you."

His face was white and his eyes glistened with suspicious wetness. He looked pointedly at her wound, his worry for her so strong it was swamping her senses with its weight.

"She's surrounded herself with an army."

"I can get close," she said touching his cheek.

It was odd seeing him ready for battle without his uniform. It reminded her of their Academy days, having him in front of her brought the memories back clear as though it were only yesterday, instead of the lifetime ago that was her reality.

"She doesn't want to kill me. At least not yet. We surprised her guards, and after that initial attack, she ordered them to stop and I know you noticed that we made a pretty clean escape. With the exception of our friend out there. Steve, you have to trust me. I know the territory and I'm the only chance we have to get close to her."

Sif frowned. "Perhaps not. Earlier you kept the Hulk at bay when he made to charge at us. You momentarily confused his loyalties."

Chloe shook her head. "It took a lot of concentration and I don't think he'll let me try it again. As soon as he realized what I was doing, I'm sure that when he decided to abandon his defensive position of Lorelei and come after us. Me in particular. Wanda explained Bruce was extremely angry with her over Wakanda and I'm sure the Hulk had similar feelings. Both of them are very testy about any kind of manipulation."

Sif snorted. "Lorelei should be the target of his ire. A prime example of that Midgardian phrase, all men are beasts. I will contact Thor, we can not defeat her army alone. Our target is Loreli but Asgard's Warriors can handle the Elves."

Steve heartily agreed with that plan much better than Chloe's directions. At least until he saw what attempting to subdue the Hulk cost her.

By the time their task was accomplished, her skin as pale as chalk and her nose bleeding freely. Bucky had managed to get unbreakable metal shackles around the Hulk's ankles and wrists, while Steve and Sif had engaged him as a distraction. Sif had explained that they were made from the same metal as Thor's hammer. They would not release without correct key. Even with Chloe dampening his rage and the urge to kill, Hulk hadn't gone down easy. He was currently back in the Gamemaster's holding cell.

The rage in his eyes and the hateful emotions he was directing at them through the bars was enough to make Chloe sick to her stomach. "How long until her spell wears off," she asked weakly.

"There is no precise lapse. Prolonged exposure in close proximity, it could be days. The strength of a person's will and mental fortitude also plays a part. Hulk is a primitive creature driven mostly by his emotions. He is easily manipulated," Sif said a-matter-of-factly.

The roar that Hulk let loose showed just how unimpressed he was by her assessment.

Chloe looked at him through the shimmering force field, her head bowed, her fingers at her temples rubbing slow circles to try and ease the pain there. "Hulk, you are not yourself. She is controlling you. Think? Before Alfhiem, Lorelei was no one to you. You think she cares for you? She is using your power. You're nothing but a pawn to her. Do you think you'll find peace by her side? All she cares is about ruling over others. She brings chaos, pain and destruction. I know that's not what you want. You want to preserve life. You care about the innocent and the weak. You want to be a champion and a protector, not a tyrant. You are not a monster but she's making you her monster. Stay here. In time you'll see that we're only trying to help you. Soon you'll be free again, I promise."

The Hulk's stance didn't change but the rage in his eyes looked marginally less manic. Not that anyone who wasn't watching his every facial tic would notice, but Steve had. The Hulk and Bruce would be okay. And as the Bifrost opened outside, if this crazy plan of Sif and Chloe's worked, they might yet survive this without a lot of bloodshed.

::: ::: :::

Chloe turned herself over to the guards at the city gate. Thor waited by the ship. They were to make radio contact once Lorelei was down so that Asgard's forces could move in and take back the city and subdue the bewitched men, until her influence faded.

Bucky, Sif and Steve followed Chloe at a distance. Steve was visibly showing his disgruntlement over this plan with the jaw grinding he was doing.

"I don't like it either but Chloe's right. We'd never get close enough to her. Not without killing a lot of people," Bucky said quietly.

"I don't like it," Steve said his brows drawn together so tight he had a deep furrow above his nose. "She's alone in there."

"Not for long. As soon as we get her signal that Lorelei is down, Thor will direct our forces into the heart of the city. I have seen your woman fight, her gift is her healing, but she knows how to handle herself in battle."

Steve felt his cheek muscle twitch, he wouldn't feel anything other than angry and worried until she was back at his side. He swore never to let her out of his sight again. Even with eyes on her as she walked regally between two heavily armed Elves, long chains around her wrists, he stomach wouldn't stop twisting in knots.

There was a whisper of movement behind them and Steve was immediately on alert. They put up a fight but they were quickly overwhelmed.

"Well, well. Sif, I thought you knew better than to bring me such fine subjects," the auburn Enchantress cooed. She caressed Steve's jaw and immediately his muscles relaxed.

Sif seethed in anger and tugged at her captor's grip but the burly Elf quickly lifted her off her feet and pinned her arms at her sides. Her head barely reached the top of his chest.

Lorelei moved on to the three Elves holding Bucky down. He twisted his head to sneer at the deceptively beautiful woman coming toward him. "Don't worry, my love. I can take away all that rage, all your concerns. I can set you free."

Her hand touched his skin and he felt it crawl with a prickly sensation as a foreign essence tried to invade his body. He closed his eyes and gave over to hope that Chloe's plan would work.

The march through the city to the grand white castle several miles from the gate was a long one. And she felt faint by the time she reached the large doors that no doubt lead to where her judge and possible executioner was waiting. In the great hall, Chloe was brought before Lorelei who sat tall and elegantly poised on her throne. She startled at the sight of Steve and Bucky at her side, both flanked by several guards. Sif look like she'd been through war, and she was still struggling but the Elf holding her didn't give her an inch.

"Bold of you to come here, and without your escort," she said with a calculating smile. "You must have thought me the fool. I have cloaked the city from the Gatekeeper's gaze. No one will come for you. For as long as you have held captive his heart, I have been his equal. I would have made Loki, a worthy queen. I took all he would give me, obeyed his every command. You could have had everything and you betrayed him to Odin and Thor," she said her voice carrying and echoing, the venom and fury unmistakable in her tone.

"So deal your justice with me," Chloe said calmly. "Let the others of my group free."

"And let Sif raise an army against me? No," Lorelei said cooly.

Chloe lifted her chin slightly and let out a steadying breath. "Why Loki? You could have any man. You've ruled realms before. Alfhiem is yours."

Lorelei barked a short laugh. "For how long? Already she has come to end that rule," she sneered at Sif. "Loki was worthy of my loyalty and his power was great. For all my charms I could not sway him. His heart like his cunning mind was his own. Which is more than I can say for this mortal. Oh he wrestles but he will please me for a time," she said with a dismissive nod at Steve. "But your soldier," she said looking with open approval at Bucky. "Your dark champion, he will be my true consort. His strength of will is formidable and the things he must have endured," she said looking pityingly at his metal arm. "I am not without compassion and for a loyal subject I bestow just and rich rewards."

Chloe felt her heart skip a beat. This was her worst nightmare come to life. Her eyes met with Steve's and she saw no sign of distress there. Just casual interest at her presence, nothing more. She focused on him, and felt the devotion and desire he had for Lorelei. Chloe felt her stomach roll and only had a fraction of a second to choke back the bile that threatened to leave her throat. She clenched her eyes shut and breathed deep and slow trying to get the twisting in her chest and stomach to relax. Tears burned in her eyes. This wasn't the time to have a break down.

"He is yours, isn't he?" Lorelai said her smile widening. She put her finger under Steve's chin. His shield was on his back and he stood calmly, allowing her caress, even leaning into it.

Chloe curled her hands into fists and pushed all her anger at Steve. He buckled and faltered a step at the assault and his neck flushed and as his brain released a surge of testosterone in response to her swamping emotions, his blood pressure rose and the redness raced up all the way to his temples. His jaw tightened and his eyes hardened, the hue of his eyes clearing to a bright piercing blue. His fists tightened and his chest expanded as he raised his arms to fight. To fight whom wasn't clear. His hackles were up and anger always triggered his defensive instincts.

Lorelei flinched back in confusion. Her touch had never evoked a violent reaction before. "Kill him."

"No," Chloe pulled against her chains.

Steve fell to his knees and grabbed at Lorelei's ankles. "What have I done to displease you, my Queen? Please? Let me prove myself worthy."

A loud inhuman roar and an impact that made the ground tremble had Chloe smiling manically. She shouldn't be counting her blessings yet, she couldn't be sure her wild card was going to pay off but anything was better than watching Steve get killed or beg that vile woman for mercy.

Elves tried to stop his entry to the hall but they were swept aside as easily as dolls. Multiple spears pierced his torso and arrows flew thick and fast.

In the confusion of Hulk's appearance, she didn't see that Bucky had tried to attack Lorelei, only that he was now in the thick of fighting off Steve. Sif was holding her own in fighting her captors but her back was wide open and she was fighting chained.

Chloe used her own chains to choke the guard holding her and kicked the other in the head, sending him flailing backward right into the path of the Hulk. More Elf Warriors poured in from other side entrances and the Hulk had had enough of getting battered, even though the wounds were dealing up almost as fast as they were made once he pulled out the weaponry from his thick skin.

Hulk roared again, the ringing echo making everyone in the vicinity clutch at their head's in pain as their ears bled and vertigo to set in. But that momentary offensive act wasn't enough to sate his rage. He locked his fists together and brought them down with full force of rage against the polished stone floor. The impact cracked the ground and the resulting split snaked outward and upward. Support columns buckled and the crumbling of stone raining down from the roof prompted Chloe to run to where Bucky and Steve were fighting.

Lorelei seeing that the Hulk's behavior couldn't be contained and that the hall was collapsing, tried to make a break for it.

Her golden sandals caught on an uneven step and she slipped. She tried to get up and run but her legs got tangled in the wispy layers of her gown. A large part of the ceiling broke away and she could only watch in terror and scream when it came down on top of her.

Sif was briefly distracted by Lorelei's scream and saw her long nemesis crushed before a blow to her chest pulled her back into her own plight.

A familiar whistling and clang of Mjolnir cause her to smile widely. Help had come.

She would never forget what she had lost to Lorelei many an age before but the future looked brighter now that her lust for power and her manipulations would no longer threaten her family and friends.

Thor fought at her back and she huffed over her shoulder. "You're late."

"The curse blinding Heimdall's gaze has ended. Odin gave the word when Lorelei fell."

"How many have fallen?" Sif's gaze shifted to where Steve and Bucky were still locked in a furious fight.

Thor caught his hammer with a swoosh and there was a dull thunk as he knocked out another Elf that had attempted a charge attack. "Too many. The structure is not stable. We must fall back."

Chloe ran past them after getting rid of the chains around her wrists and ankles. Thor managed to snag her around the waist when he saw her intended destination.

"You can not interfere."

"Neither one of them is going to stop until Lorelei's mind control ends. I will put a stop to it before it gets to a point they can not come back from."

Sif eyed the way Steve was jabbing with his spear and brandishing his shield. She noted how fatigued Bucky appeared. His face was sweating and his jaw was locked tight, his teeth bared, he was possibly suffering broken bones already. "I do not believe James Barnes is afflicted."

Chloe sagged in Thor's arms. Why would he be fighting Steve then, if not for so petty attempt to one up or carry out Lorelei's last command? Almost slapping herself in the head for her lapse in memory, she pushed up her sleeve and checked her stone. The one that revealed Bucky's emotions. It was a swirling gray. Not a trace of red or green. Sif was right. Then a soft voice reminded her of something else about that amulet. She had been a fool on two counts.

Without a second thought she wrestled free from Thor and picked up a fallen bow as she ran. Within striking distance, she swung at Steve. He took the blow across the back of the head and went down like a felled tree. She only just managed to catch his shoulders before he could strike the ground, his weight making her grunt in pain as their combined weight bruised her shins and knees on the broken steps. A sharp sting in her left shoulder reminded her of the stitches she'd likely pulled supporting his weight in her arms.

Thor scooped Steve up from her arms and Sif helped her stand as they rushed everyone out of the room as more of the roof collapsed.

The Hulk's roar followed them out and Chloe sagged against Sif, her worry, blood loss and exhaustion finally overtaking everything else.

Asgard's Army captured all the Elves infected by Lorelei's magic and the women who had been too afraid to raise arms against their loved ones; husbands, fathers and brothers, took care of the wounded.

They returned to Asgard and Steve was taken to the Healers. They attended to his wounds; he'd suffered a laceration across his stomach and forearm. And there was the sizable lump on the back of his head. He was apologetic and mortified when he woke up. Much like Barton had been once Agent Romanoff had reset his brain patterns with a firm blow to the head to clear up Loki's mind whammy, Steve was himself once again.

Bucky had retreated to the room Thor had offered him once he was sure that Steve was going to be okay. Chloe torn between following him and staying with Steve. She waited until Steve was awake and reassuring her he was all right, before she promised to come back after checking on their friend.

One look at the bracelet confirmed what she already suspected it was a pulsing red.

"I should have driven a dagger through her heart the second she got close. I hesitated because I didn't know what might happen to you if she didn't return to her slaves."

"Don't call them that," Chloe said softly.

Bucky glared at her. "It's what she turned them into."

"It's my fault." As soon as she said it and she saw him freeze, his confusion obvious, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Earlier all of his anger had been directed inward. With Lorelei dead, he couldn't lash out at her for what she'd done. So instead, he was beating himself up. Chloenwas nothing if not honest with her family. Where would they be without honesty and trust. "I forgot about the protective quality of the stone you wear. I keeps the wearer from being influenced by any kind of mind tampering and to a limited degree, illness or injury as well. Children go through enough rapid change without allowing them to fall prey to external forces."

He continued to stare at her, his face blank with shock until his lips twisted in renewed anger. "So all this could have been avoided. I could have faced her alone?"

Chloe nodded once and braced herself, wrapping her arms tightly around her midsection. She could feel how angry and frustrated he was. How much raw and restless energy was surging through his body. He needed an outlet, he was hurt, distraught and he was trying to rein it in because while he was angry, he wasn't sure he was even really angry at her. "I'm sorry," she offered helplessly, wishing more than anything that he didn't feel so much anger and self loathing all the time. But a lot time ago she promised herself she wouldn't use her abilities to block his emotions. Not when she understood what the absence of her mercy cost afterward. Artificial indifference didn't strip away memory, and what followed for someone as caring as Bucky had been, and was again now that he was free of Hydra's conditioning, was guilt so thick you easily could drown in it.

Bucky surged past her but not before sweeping everything off the long mantle and shattering all the sculptures and vases on it. The heavy door behind her slammed shut and Chloe sank to her knees her entire body shaking. He was angry but he'd get through it. A look beneath the sleeve of her tunic, she could see that already the pulsing was slowing and there was a thread of green and grey woven between the curling feathers of red. She clutched the stone on the bracelet to her chest. It hurt that he was even a little angry at her, but she was relieved that he didn't hate her.

The Hulk had survived the collapse of the castle hall and Thor had pulled a shaken and nude Bruce Banner from the rubble. Bruce had chosen to remain on Alfhiem and help the people heal and rebuild. He found that he wasn't the only one with a guilty conscience and he expressed that it was a comfort to know that he was surrounded by people that accepted and didn't judge him for his actions. Who understood that for all his strength, he had been as powerless as everyone else.

Steve was out of the Healing Chambers within the day and he was concerned by her pensiveness when she hovered at the edge of the room while he dressed. It didn't take long for him to piece together that her talk with Bucky hadn't gone well. Instead of getting annoyed with immediately for upsetting her, when she explained their talk. Or more so her confession and his reaction, Steve sighed.

"He would do that a lot when were kids. He had a temper, so he'd either go boxing or break things. His Dad would yell and he'd go fume for a while, make holes in the lawn at the park of throw rocks off the Brooklyn Bridge. I'll go talk to him after we give him some space to cool off."

Chloe unwound the bracelet from her wrist. "I think you should wear this. I realize now that it should have been you. Not only would it have protected you, the stones are a pair but you know him better than anyone else. Do you know he once told me in one of our sessions while we hiding out at the cabin, that his biggest worry, aside from that whatever they did to you with Project Rebirth wouldn't be permanent, was that it would change who you are. He was terrified to go back out to war, but he was more afraid of you going back there without him. He was worried no one would notice or care if the serum changed you and got you killed or turned you into Schmitt. He loves you, Steve. All he's ever wanted was to protect you. Now I think you should get to do the same." She closed his hand around the stone. "If he's okay with it, I think you should hang onto it. He'll never be able to forget, he won't let himself. It's his penance, but I think with your help, he'll be able to find his way. He'll be able to let himself live and be happy."

Steve didn't know what to say, so without words he held her close and kissed her hair. She was always watching over them, saving them, protecting them, even when it cost her so much. "He loves you too, you know. The moment he saw you, I saw it in his eyes. He called you, Angel."

She smiled sadly and made a very unladylike, self depreciating noise. "I'm no angel."

Steve grinned and hugged her tighter. "You are our, Nightingale though."

She elbowed him lightly in the ribs on impulse and regretted it when he winced, remembering that he was still tender from his wounds. "Sorry."

"Come on, love. Let's go for dinner, I'm famished."

Chloe shook her head and looped her arm through his, putting her head to his shoulder. "You're always hungry."

"With my metabolism, is it really a surprise? Plus I've been wounded, darling. Pity for the wounded soldier?"

Chloe leaned on her toes and kissed his lips lightly. "Taking care of you is a pleasure. Lead the way."

 

::: ::: :::

 

It was never her intention to hurt him. Nothing could be further from her heart. Faced with near impossible circumstances, she'd had to make a heartbreaking choice. Desperate and alone, she'd done what she had to. And as the years passed by, she had given only brief longing to the lost treasured items she'd given up. But reunited with the love of her life, the keeper of her heart and her soul's match, she'd seen his confusion and hurt. When Steve had noticed that her rings weren’t on her finger and her plutonium chain - near unbreakable, courtesy of Clark which was part of a matching set, Steve the owner of the other - wasn’t around her neck, she knew that her actions however well intended had inevitably wounded him. The expression on his face had been heartbreaking and she felt transported back to the moment she’d wrestled with the decision over what to do. She could have continued to gamble with her luck and steal what she needed to mount her rescue, or she could sell her rings, the rare metal allowing her quick money. 

If she hadn’t been on a deadline, the choice would have been easy. It was her only tangible reminder of Steve. A token of his love. A symbol of their eternal commitment to each other. There were other ways to get supplies. She could labor for food and shelter. She had some medical skill and she could work in the over full hospitals and churches. She’s also had linguistic talent, and she could find work as an interpreter, a typist or wire operator which would have paid a decent wage. But she didn’t have that luxury. She had days, not weeks to put together a daring rescue mission. With no money and no allies, it was all she had to trade.

Telling him had been painful, not only because she had to revisit those memories but because of what had followed. You couldn’t open that door to the past without everything else tumbling out with it. Every torment, the feelings of helplessness, the pain and scars, her loneliness and moments of despair. His touch never faltered as she shared with him why they weren’t in her possession and there was no hesitation when he affirmed her choice and brushed aside her doubt. His love and his warmth had chased away her fears and dulled the lingering remorse. As he promised to get her another ring to replace what she’d traded, in that instant muscles tightened her chest, a crushing weight of guilt and unworthiness weighing on her again. He was so forgiving, so full of affection, her memories of their past life seemed so long ago that they were like a fondly remembered faded dream. The details lost in the waking world, were only snippets, moments and impressions remained. It would take time for her to feel worthy of his love. However irrational those doubts were.

Following their return from Alfheim, the days passed quietly and pleasantly on Asgard, no one disturbing them as they walked the small towns and villages surrounding Asgard’s citadel, she forgot all about her anxieties, the longer she was in his company. For Steve, only days had passed since the Arena. For Chloe, it had been decades ago, yet in his company, his easy confidence, his smile, the firm grasp of his hand, the beauty of love that shone in his eyes, she found herself falling easily into that role of wife, companion, partner, the woman she had once been secure in his love for her.

Upon returning to the palace from their morning walk, Thor had been waiting for them and he seemed to radiate a nervous yet joyful energy. It was no uncommon for one of their friends to be waiting on them. James, Bruce or Thor would often be asking after them. They always left word with someone when they planned to spend a day out of the palace gates but for their long, routine morning or evening walks, they just left. Considering they’d left after the morning meal, she couldn’t be sure how long he may have been waiting but he could have sent a raven for them if it was urgent. He passed a small box into Steve’s waiting hands and Chloe arched a curious eyebrow over the exchange.

“It is but a small token,” Thor said by way of explanation, his eyes darting to Steve with whom he shared a small nod. “A trinket and in no way a equal exchange for the debt my family owes you, Chloe Sullivan-Rogers, but it was my pleasure to have aided in my dear friend’s request to have this made for you. It truly does reflect your rare beauty and gentle nature. I believe your beloved knows your heart well.” He folded his arms over his broad chest and smiled widely, expectantly waiting for something having said his piece.

Steve got down on one knee and Chloe felt her pulse quicken in her throat. With an unsteady hand, she put her cold fingers against the rapidly warming skin of her neck. “Oh Steve,” she pleaded softly.

He smiled at her fondly and lifted the lid back, revealing to all what was within the small box. “That day by the waterfall and you were a little put out I wouldn’t show you what I was drawing, this was the surprise. I wasn’t sure I should ask Thor, but I didn’t want to wait till if or when we might go back. Chloe, you’re my wife. I’d buy you a thousand rings, blog till we managed to break the internet, I might need Tasha’s help with that but you get the idea, I want the world to know I love you and that you’re priceless to me. Alien metal, a precious stone not found anywhere on Earth and my own design, is the best way I could express it right now.”

Steve took her left hand that still wouldn’t stop trembling, until he rubbed his thumb over the back of it in soothing circles. He gave her a dazzling grin that never failed to make her feel lighter than air and smile just as brightly in return. 

“It seems like a lifetime ago that you first asked me. Sometimes if I’m alone, I worry that, that woman was someone else,” she said, overwhelming emotion clogging her throat.

He plucked the ring from the pillowed inlay and slid the band over her knuckle, till it rested in a perfect fit, adorning her finger. Then he kissed her hand, never relinquishing it again but threading her smaller fingers between his strong much thicker ones. Steve stood and met her eyes, his expression earnest. “You will never be alone again.”

Chloe felt her eyes brim with tears as she took in the delicate but radiant Edwardian design ring. The band was covered laced with tiny etching and engraving, with thin twists of metal forming hearts on either side of the raised stone-setting. It was the kind of jewelry that looked like an heirloom. One that would be treasured and passed down from generation to generation, mother to child while always sharing the story of the day the ring was first given as a symbol of faithful and enduring love.

“It’s so beautiful. I love it, and words won’t ever be enough to express how much I love you,” she said throwing her arms around his neck.

Steve picked her up effortlessly and swung her around keeping the length of their chests molded together with her wrapped securely in the haven of his arms. He set her on her feet between his and kept her close, so close he could feel the thundering beat of her heart.

Chloe tilted her face to his and felt his full bottom lip press fully against her hairline before his leaned down to fuse their mouths in a passionate, desperate kiss.

Always breathless, she smiled against his lips and turned slightly to drag in much needed air.

“I’m yours and you are mine,” he said gruffly.

Chloe nodded her agreement and inched up on her toes to rub her nose against the end of his. She touched his cheek with her newly adorned hand and rubbed her thumb over those lips she rediscovered her addiction for. “Forever and always, my promise.”


End file.
